


In Loco Parentis

by RottenKidNextDoor (PortalofWords)



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Anxiety Disorder, Core Four, Crimes & Criminals, F/F, Found Family, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Some Offensive Language, They're All Gay, Troubled Teens, homophobic parents, real world AU, runaway teens, some violence, they become a little family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-04-24 09:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 81,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19170052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PortalofWords/pseuds/RottenKidNextDoor
Summary: Jay and Mal - two runaways with an aptitude for illegal ventures - never imagined that their little family would expand. But when one fateful car crash connects the two of them with another pair of troubled teens, they end up getting a lot more than they bargained for.orthe core four have shitty home lives and shittier attitudes, but they make things work eventually and end up raising each other far better than their parents ever could.





	1. Crashes and Cop-Outs

**Author's Note:**

> fyi: in loco parentis is latin for in place of a parent :) :) 
> 
>  
> 
> on that note: hey guys! it's been awhile since i posted a new long fic, but this one is gonna be one hell of a ride (hopefully). FIRST OFF A HUGE THANKS TO MY BETA READER WHO HAS BEEN LISTENING TO ME STRESS ABOUT THIS SINCE LAST OCTOBER :) thanks ty <3
> 
> warnings for abuse (sexual/verbal/physical), language, anxiety, sexual content, and eating disorders. 
> 
> other than that, enjoy :)

* * *

**~M~**

 

“You’re shitting me right now.”

“I wish I were.”

“Jay, I can’t believe you!” Although the girl standing on the curb was yelling into the phone, none of the people slinking by dared to glance up. It was _that_ side of town.  “You left me here like twenty seconds ago! How fucking fast were you driving?”

“It wasn’t my fault,” the boy on the other end kept insisting. “Mal, listen to me, some drunk asshat -”

“Were you the drunk asshat? Have you been drinking? It’s three in the afternoon!”

“No, Mal, I swear it,” Jay assured her. “The dude ran a stop sign, I swerved and hit a pole -”

“Are the cops there?”

“No, no, God, no.”

Mal didn’t even know why she bothered to ask. She sighed heavily, rubbing her forehead. Jay had _just_ sped off with her car, and within seconds, the shitty thing had smashed into a pole. And he wondered why she never let him drive the thing. “Well, how the fuck are you getting out of there?”

“I might just take my wallet and run.”

Mal felt her temper flare up again. “That’s the second stupidest thing you’ve ever said!” she hissed, looking around rather helplessly. She definitely didn't want to walk back to their apartment from there, but walking home from now on? Every day? Every time she needed to go anywhere? That wasn't going to fly. They needed that car. “Stay with my car, or so help me you will sleep on the streets tonight.”

“Remind me again when it became _your_ car? I fixed it up!”

“Because,” Mal huffed impatiently. “You gave it to me for my birthday _as a gift_. And last time I checked - hold up, you did fix it in the first place. Why can’t you do it now?”

“Hate to break it to you, but it’s going to take a lot more than a new battery and Google to fix the piece of shit this time,” Jay chuckled humorlessly. “And I’m certainly not qualified -”

“Well, fine, stay with _my_ car until you can get someone who _can_ fix it!”

“Yeah, who?”

“Dunno. Figure it out.” She paused for half a second, lowering her voice. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

“Nope.” Jay popped the “P” rather satisfyingly. “Maybe whiplash, but I'm good.”

Mal nodded and turned face the drugstore in front of which she’d been loitering. The peeling signage on the front greeted her as she walked inside, and she was forced to bring her voice down to a hushed tone. “Wish I could say the same. My roots look like shit, and I’m sick of it. Thank god I’m doing my hair today.” Picking up a box of purple hair dye, she inspected it carefully.

“Look at that!” Jay quipped on the other line. “You found something to be grateful for. I crashed the car _after_ dropping you off.”

“Ha, ha, I’m so amused.” Mal walked to the front of the store. “Okay, I’m going to pay. Call me when this is all straightened out. Don't come home without the car. And you better not have totalled it!” She hung up, huffing out a long breath as she slammed the box of dye onto the counter.

“Boyfriend?” the woman behind the register asked, interested, but only mildly so. It wasn’t usual that the people around there stopped to chat, and Mal found it very irritating. And slow.

 _Just a_ bad _friend,_ Mal thought to herself. Out loud, she hissed, “None of your damn business.” Fishing some cash out of her pocket, she wished Chatty Cathy would just ring her up in silence. She was too busy hoping Jay really was okay and that her car wasn't wrecked beyond repair to bother with something as trivial as smalltalk.

_If I have to go back to public transportation I’m gonna murder someone. I literally might just snap._

True, the car had been a piece of shit before it ever met the pole - junkyard fix-ups weren’t anything to brag about - but it still got them places just fine. And Mal had to admit, she had a certain fondness for the thing. If Jay had gone and wrecked it, she'd murder him.

_Fuck him. Not really. But fuck him._

The cashier was still talking. Of course she got the conversationalist today. After a few more agonizing minutes, the woman finally printed the receipt which Mal balled up and shoved into her pocket.

“Have a nice day,” the talkative bitch recited.

“Yeah, don’t count on it.”

Mal squinted as she swung out onto the street, flipping the sun off as it beat down on her pale skin. Jay liked to joke that she was part vampire. The black fire escapes spiraling up the buildings glinted painfully in the bright sunlight, and suspicious lack of clouds did nothing to hide the peeling paint and chipped bricks. Ignoring the crazy woman on the corner with her weird, shaking chihuahua, Mal stalked down the street, cursing Jay with every step. She definitely did _not_ want to be walking from the drugstore in the middle of the day with the sun beating down on her neck and shoulders, but now she really didn’t have a choice.

“He just _had_ to go run into a damn pole, didn’t he?” Mal muttered under her breath as she texted him. “Just our fucking luck.”

Their place wasn’t too far from the store, but that afternoon it could’ve been a hundred miles away. She was hot, tired, pissed, and certainly not in the mood to hike across town.

At least she’d gotten the dye.

There was nothing like freshly colored purple hair to make Mal feel more like herself.

* * *

** ~J~ **

 

It hadn’t been his fault.

Jay knew that Mal understood, no matter what she’d said over the phone. And her car didn’t look _too_ bad, but it would definitely need some fixing up. Some major fixing up.

“Shit.” He groaned under his breath, staring at the damage. The few people using the side street to avoid traffic barely paid him a second glance -  even the worst of the rubberneckers didn’t think it worth the risk to slow down in this neighborhood.

The sun was relentless that afternoon, beating down on his shoulders and neck. Reaching into his back pocket, Jay tied up his hair in a bandana to get it off his neck.

“Hot as balls out here,” he grumbled under his breath. “Maybe I’ll just fry to death. Mal can’t kill me if I burn first.”

 _I hope I don’t need to tow this piece of shit out of here,_ he thought to himself with a sigh, running his fingers over the hood.

His phone vibrated in his back pocket, and Jay flipped it open. He knew who it was from before he even checked the display. Only one person ever texted him these days.

 

**Leaving the drugstore now. I hope you’re fucking happy asshole.**

 

He shook his head, quickly punching back a response.

 

**Be safe. Fucker.**

 

“Dude, I can fix that for you,” came a voice somewhere off to his left, snapping Jay back to the present. It was low, quiet, and he whipped around to see who it belonged to. A boy had appeared from seemingly nowhere, his white curls almost blinding in the scorching sunlight.

“And why would you do that?”

The boy was on the smaller side, lithe, and judging from the way his shirt clung to his stomach, pretty fit too. Jay doubted he could outrun him if it came down to it, the kid looked built for speed. He wasn’t making eye contact, either, staring at the hazy cement as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

“I said, why would you do that?” Jay repeated, studying the way the other boy’s white curls quivered some. “You gonna charge me or what?”

“Well, yeah,” the boy wrung his hands slightly. “But not as much as some of the other places in town would. And it’ll be fast. I’m pretty good with cars, really good actually. Machines in general.”

“What are your rates?”

“Flat fee of six hundred.” The boy still wasn’t looking at him. “You’ve got a smashed hood, a broken headlight, probably some engine damage, and the fender is off. Those look like halogen bulbs, so they’ll be a little cheaper, but I promise you, the other places will be charging in the thousands for all the fixes.”

Jay didn’t have six hundred dollars on him, but he figured if the boy was picking up customers on the side of crash scenes, he didn’t run a legitimate operation, which meant no files and no way to track him down. “You got a tow truck?”

“You won’t need one.” The boy stretched out a freckled arm and pointed to the car. “Where we’re going isn’t far. You didn’t completely bust it; should be good for a few miles.”

Jay pretended to consider his options for a moment. His dad had once told him that he should never, _ever_ agree to a first offer, and the dark-haired teen considered that just about the only useful thing the man had ever taught him.  “Five hundred or no deal.”

Now it was the boy’s turn to mull that over, still squinting at the cement as if searching for the right answer. “Fine, let’s just get the hell out of here. It’s hot.”

“As blazes,” Jay agreed, glancing over for a second. “Wait, what’s your name?”

Finally, the boy flicked his gaze up for a half a second. “Carlos. My name is Carlos.”  

* * *

**~C~**

 

Carlos had figured out the system.

Find an accident, seek out an agitated driver, offer them a slightly lower price than the other legitimate auto shops around town, and bingo: cash straight into his pocket. Machines may have been easier to figure out than people, but mostly, he’d found that everyone liked to think they were getting a deal.

As they started down the road, he dared to glance over at the other boy in the driver seat. He’d only meant to take a quick peek, just a brief shift of the eyes, really, but his gaze got caught on the boy’s biceps and lingered on the cobra tattoo curled up one of them. When he realized the quizzical look the boy was giving him, Carlos immediately turned back to the road so fast he almost broke his neck. The last thing he needed was to give this guy the wrong idea. Instead, he focused on identifying the concerning clunks coming from the hood of the car to save himself some time in the garage. And also to keep his cheeks from getting any hotter.

“Left here,” Carlos instructed. “And then another left.”

“Is this where you live?” The other teen’s eyes were narrow as he took everything in, and Carlos added another thing to his growing list of reasons why the guy was definitely from his side of town: constantly suspicious.

“It’s where I work. Now turn off here, it’s all the way at the end of this road.”

“Holy shit, is this Hell Hall?”

Carlos rolled his eyes as they turned into the driveway. “Are people still calling it that? Stop here, I gotta open the gate.” He jumped out of the car and punched in the code. The cast iron gates made a horrible screech as they scraped across the cement, and for a moment, he froze before remembering no one else was home.

“You have a garage or a shop something?” The taller teen was looking in the rearview mirror at the gates, frowning some. “In Hell Hall?”

“Yes. Right here, turn now and pull all the way in.”  

“You said you work here?” The boy stopped the car, jumping out and shielding his eyes to look up at the mansion with its skeletal balconies and victorian era stone exterior. Carlos couldn’t blame him for staring; the mansion was incredibly old and maybe even beautiful for someone who didn’t know what happened inside its walls. “For that batshit ex-designer? She still lives here, right? She your boss?”

“Yes.” Carlos wasn’t lying. He did practically work here, just for no pay, but Jay didn’t need to know that. At first glance, his garage wasn’t anything special. Just a lift and mostly bare walls, save the framed posters from age-old London fashion shows. But lurking inside cabinets and behind large boxes of long forgotten designs was a multitude of old tools he had collected over the years or repurposed from the trash.  

“What exactly do you do around this place?”

“Cook and clean and shit.” Carlos rolled under the car to take a look at the leaking oil that was snaking back down the driveway in a shiny, rainbow-sheened trail.

“So… you’re like a maid? Hired hands?” The dark-haired teen was leaning back against the wall, and Carlos shook his head under the car. Most people just went on their phones or called a taxi until he was done. Leave it to Mr. Biceps to try and hold a conversation. 

“Sort of.” Carlos frowned, starting to work.

“You got a cute little uniform? Is it lacy?”

Carlos glanced up, startled, but let out his breath again when he saw the joking gleam in the other boy’s eye. “Nah. Is this car yours?”

“Nah,” the boy echoed, giving him a smug smile. “I’ve got someone who’s pretty pissed at me right now.”

 _Well, can’t say that I blame them,_ the freckled boy thought to himself.

“I’m Jay, by the way,” the boy said, as if it were important for Carlos to know. “I don’t think I mentioned it before.

_Because I didn’t ask._

There was the sound of a phone ringing, and Carlos jumped at the sudden noise, his heart pounding.  

“Sorry, hang on.” Jay pulled out a flip phone and spoke hurriedly into it, his voice too quiet for Carlos to hear properly from his position under the car.

He paused in the adjustments for a moment, one eyebrow raised. The only people who still bothered with flip phones were elderly citizens and criminals. And Jay didn’t look like he was sixty-plus years old. Carlos quietly snapped a picture of the guy’s license plate - just in case he tried to bolt without paying.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jay was saying into the phone, louder now. “You got home safe?... Good. Yeah, okay, don’t start…  I know, I - no, I’m good, I told you I was good. I’m getting your car fixed.” It was quiet in the garage for the few blessed seconds that the person on the other end was talking. “Mal, - no, it’ll be fine - look, I’ll explain it to you later; I got a plan. Yes, down at Hell Hall. The kid that works here is apparently good with cars. Don’t worry, I vetted it. Do you - do you trust me, Mal? Yeah? Okay. Bye, see you tonight. Alright, I hate you more.”

The affectionate tone wasn’t lost on Carlos as he swung out from under the car, examining the fender and the damaged panels. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Jay had been talking to his girlfriend.

“Sorry.” Jay shook his head. “She’s an asshole, honestly. Some poor person is gonna have to deal with her sorry ass if she ever gets a date.”  That answered his question, then.

“Uh huh, it’s fine.” Really, Carlos couldn’t care less.

After today, he’d probably never see Jay ever again.

 

* * *

  **~E~**

 

Evie was a woman on a mission.

She had two coffees nestled in a carry-out carton in one hand and her phone in the other, her heels making a satisfying clicking noise on the cement. As usual, people tended to stare as she passed. Catching a glimpse of herself in the glass of a passing window, she fretted over the few stray hairs that had already escaped the bonds of her braid.

“Hey, sweetheart!” one of the men on the side of the road called while his buddies hooted. “Give us a smile!”

She ignored them. Her mother didn’t want _dirty_ men touching her. No, they were both waiting for a perfect, rich gentlemen to sweep her off her feet. And it would happen; Evie told herself that every day. She’d get a huge house on the boujee side of town and attend all the fancy galas and important events with her handsome husband. It wasn’t a dream; it was a goal.

She got in her car as gracefully as she could with her hands full, barely missing a beat as she started the engine. Luckily, the route to Carlos’ house wasn’t particularly long; she was running a bit behind schedule. In all her haste, Evie was acutely aware that her lip gloss had smudged, and her hands itched to reapply.

 _No glossing and driving, Evie, you know that,_ she told herself. _You can do it at the next red light._

There was an anxious pit in her stomach that swirled uncomfortably until, thankfully, the light in front of her changed to red. Hurriedly pulling out her tube of lip gloss, Evie ran the brush over her puckered lips, breathing even again.

_Thank God._

Soon enough, she was pulling up the long driveway and trying not to shiver - the gothic mansion still gave her chills every time. Carlos had given her the code to the gates a long time ago, for which she was grateful. He wasn’t always able to come outside and open them.

“Carlos! Carlos, hon, I’m here, sorry I’m late!” Evie called as she stepped out onto the cement and strode up to the garage. “I had to fix my hair and makeup, pick up our coffee, and it’s just been one of those mornings.”

There was a brief pause, and then Carlos darted out of the garage, grease already streaked across his forehead. His face broke into thin smile when he saw her - just like it always did. It's what kept her coming back day after day, despite her mother's warnings about hanging out with "the servant class". “Hey, Evie. It’s alright.”

“You got a new project?” She took a tissue from her purse and passed it to him. “There’s a little something on your face.”

A tall, tan, muscular boy waltzed out of the garage, and Evie immediately felt herself tense.  “Hey, Carlos - _oh, hello there, Princess,_ ” he said smoothly, giving her a way-too-dangerous-to-be-friendly smile.

“Who is this?” she demanded, looking at Carlos for an explanation. Strange muscled boys weren’t usually the type to hang around Carlos unless they were beating him up.

“It’s okay,” the freckled boy assured her softly. “I’m fixing his car.”

The taller boy was grinning, but his eyes hadn’t traveled _down_ as men’s usually did, which she found... odd. And maybe a little alarming. Was she not desirable? Had he seen better? He was opening his mouth, and she crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping he said something, anything, about her hair, her tits, her straight teeth, the lip gloss she’d _just_ applied.

“I have someone you should meet.”

“ _What_?”

He had yet to stop smiling. “I said - I have someone I want you to meet. Her name's Mal, and I hope you don’t mind a dye-job.”

It took Evie several moments to recover. When she finally found her voice again, she at least had the dignity to clear her throat and straighten out her skirt. “You mean like, highlights?”

“Ha,” the boy smirked, sarcasm creeping into his voice. “Try a full head of hair done a nice, subtle shade of fucking purple.”

Purple. Evie tried to picture a girl with purple hair, and she was quite disturbed to realize how much she _liked_ the idea.

_Boys. You like boys, Evie._

“Someone’s feeling that.” Jay was still smiling, that flirtatious, _awful_ smirk. Why was he still talking to her? What was he even talking about?

“Shut up,” she hissed, straightening up. “I have a boyfriend.”

Carlos put a gentle hand on her shoulder, and nodded. “I know, Evie. Don’t listen to him.”

“Don’t you worry about me.” Evie’s manner softened immediately, and she returned the small smile from earlier. “Go fix -” she looked at the boy still smiling obnoxiously at her. “What do they call you, anyway?”

“Jay.”

“Well, go fix _Jay’s_ car. And get that smile off his face if you can!”

Jay unfolded his arms now, and she got a better look at the tattoo curling up his arm. She couldn’t help but think about what her mother might say if she saw it.

_No abrasions or imperfections on the skin, Evie. Accidental damage is horrendous, but purposeful mutilation? Pure sin._

“Why don’t you come with me, Princess?” he offered, extending his arm as if she might actually take it. “I could use some company while I wait. I could get lonely. Isn't that why you're here? 

“Oh, please, you just want to grope me or something,” the brunette huffed, pulling away sharply. At least now he was looking at her tits, even if it wasn’t the same lustful stare she was used to. "And I'm here to keep Carlos company while he works, not you." 

“I’ll tell you more about Mal.” His long hair had started to fall out of his purple bandana, which was, coincidentally, the same color she imagined this Mal’s hair to be.

“Fine.”

So they sat in the garage on a couple of crates, listening to Carlos bang around on the car, while he told her about a green-eyed, purple haired devil who was apparently his best friend or mortal enemy - she couldn’t quite tell which.

“... and we used to climb out our windows and meet under this old bridge, and that night I told her, if you steal my shit one more time, I -”

“PET!” A sudden scream interrupted Jay’s story and all three teenagers jumped, Carlos crashing into table and sending scraps of metal skittering across the floor.

“Okay, okay, okay.” His face was pale under the grease and freckles. “I - I gotta go - I gotta go, it’s okay, it’s okay. Cleaned the baseboards, cooked the dinner, washed the windows, dusted the parlor, fluffed the furs - I fluffed the furs, right? - oh, yes, before the wigs, okay, okay.”  

Evie bit her lip as he sprinted away. “She wasn’t supposed to be home, yet.”

“Is that the designer -”

“Shhh!” The dark-haired girl put a finger to her lips, suddenly remembering that Jay was still there. “Duck down, get down, just in case.” She was surprised to see how fast Jay was able to get down, the way he put his body a little in front of hers.

Presently, there was a sudden increase of noise in the house: lots of shouting, and what Evie thought was the sound of breaking glass.

“Oh God, what’s she doing to him now?” the brunette whispered to herself. Jay stayed perfectly frozen, so quiet she couldn’t help but admire his statue-esque presence. They waited, listening to the screeching and crashing, and by the time Carlos stumbled back into the garage, Evie’s blood was pounding in her ears.

“Carlos?”

“It’s all good.”

She rose up from behind the crates and scanned his face, looking for immediate injuries. It looked like he’d washed most of the blood off, which made it hard to tell where it had come from to begin with. “C…”

“I - I have to go work on some… work,” the boy responded lamely. “I’m done with the car for today. Fixed the engine issues and the headlight. Jay, you can bring it back tomorrow, and I’ll finish the rest. It should be safe to drive for now.”  

Evie sighed heavily, aware of the slight slump of Carlos’ shoulders and the tightness in his voice. But she wouldn’t fuss over him. They agreed upon that a long time ago. Glancing over at Jay, she suddenly swallowed hard. This looked so suspicious; there were a hundred red flags. She was expecting him to ask something, anything, but the tall teen just nodded and grabbed his keys.

“Alright, thanks a ton, Carlos, you’re a lifesaver. Uh -” he paused, and Evie was sure the storm of questions would come now.

_Who was that? Why did she yell at you? Can’t you do anything? How’d you get that cut? How long has this been going on? Do you need me to call the police?_

“I only have a hundred dollars in here right now.” Jay took out his wallet and stared into the pockets, as if that might make more money appear. “I’ll get you the rest tomorrow, okay? Take a picture of my license plate if you think I might run.”

“Already did.” Despite the washing, a trickle of blood traced its way down to his lip, and Carlos swiped it away hastily. He took the hundred dollars from Jay carefully, studying the bills to avoid eye contact.

“I’ll make sure to tell Mal about you,” the dark-haired boy promised Evie, turning away from the freckled boy. Maybe it was just Evie projecting, but she could’ve sworn his smile looked a little more genuine now. “I’ll try and drag her here with me tomorrow.”

“If you want.” Evie wasn’t sure whether she hoped he would or not. “I’ll show you out.”

She followed his car to the end of the driveway, taking glances up at the house just in case.

“Bye.” Jay cracked another smirk, but this one was measured. He looked around for a moment before lowering his voice. “Listen, Mal and I have a damn good bruise cream. I can bring that by tomorrow, too.” And then the engine revved, and he was gone.  

Evie stared after him, her lower lip caught between her teeth. It wasn’t until Carlos called her back that she finally tore her eyes from the road.

“Evie? What’s wrong?”  

“He didn’t ask any questions.” The dark-haired girl’s voice sounded far away. “Carlos… he heard that whole thing and never tried to - _ask_ anything. And then, he said that he and that other girl have a bruise cream they use. He’s gonna bring it tomorrow.”

“It’s fine,” the freckled boy muttered. “Really.”

“I know, but why would they have bruise cream just on the ready like that?”

Carlos shrugged and his eyebrows scrunched some. “Maybe he’s clumsy.”

“Sure.” Evie stared down the road that Jay had disappeared from, remembering how quiet and quick he’d been getting down in the garage. “And I’m the ugliest girl in town.”


	2. Ire and Identities

**~M~**

 

“She’d better be as cute as you say she is.”

Jay rolled his eyes, one hand lazily on the steering wheel. “She is. Don’t worry. Just your type, too. Long legs, brown curls, brown eyes -”

“I don't have a type.” Mal tried her hardest not to look as enthralled as she felt. Jay had come home the previous night with a wicked gleam in his eye, talking about a girl with eyes as bright as Mal’s hair, and she hadn’t stopped thinking about her ever since.  “Are you sure she’s even gonna be there?”

“She will be. Carlos and her seem to be attached at the hip somehow. She brought him coffee and then just - stayed to keep him company. I got the feeling she does that a lot.”

“Is Carlos cute?” Mal knew Jay probably wouldn’t admit to anything, but she figured she’d poke the fire anyway. He let out a low grunt, but didn’t say much else, which usually was a pretty good indication. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Kid’s far too messed up to be looking for a lay, Mal,” Jay told her as he drove.  “That designer bitch hit him or something. Came out looking all shaken, but resigned, you know? Like it’s been happening for a while. I bet you anything he has a black eye today.”

“Well, you’re messed up,” the purple-haired girl shrugged. “Seems like a good match to me.”

“We don’t even know which way he swings.”

It was Mal’s turn to snort. “If this girl is as stunning as you say she is, and the two of them haven’t hooked up, he’s gay.”

“That’s not true.”

“Wanna bet?”

When they arrived at Hell Hall, Mal’s eyes widened in surprise. She’d driven past the place a few times in her life, but somehow it felt much bigger now that she was about to enter through the gates. Between the shadowy peaks and the huge, formidable door, Mal wasn’t sure which part unsettled her more. And she rarely got unsettled these days.

“You weren’t wrong. Something definitely happens behind those walls,” Mal muttered. “This place is fucking sketch.”

She was so caught up in staring at the mansion that she barely noticed the white-haired, freckled kid was coming down to let them in until he was nearly at their window. Sure enough, his eye was stained with dark, angry shades of purple and red. Despite the shiner, Mal wasn’t blind to his other features, which really were sort of cute.

“Hey, you also weren’t lying - he does have potential,” Mal whispered to Jay as Carlos motioned for them to roll up the driveway  and turn into the open garage. “Get him some clothes that fit and -”

“Shhhh, he's coming, Mal you better not- hey, Carlos.” Jay jumped out of the car quickly, with the engine still running. “I found a set of tools lying around this morning and figured you could use them more than I do. They’re newer than the ones you’ve got.”

“Found them my ass.” Mal called as she turned the car off for him. “He dug around for thirty minutes this morning looking for those. Woke me up with all his banging.”

Carlos looked at the tools in awe for a moment, before frowning. “How much?”

“Huh?”

“How much do I owe you for them?” Carlos’ hand twitched, like he couldn’t wait to get his hands on the kit.

“Uh -” Jay scratched his neck, looking a little lost. “Nothing? Just a gift.”

But the freckled boy shook his head. “Bullshit. Nothing is free. Name your price.”

Jay glanced over at Mal, but she only gave him a shrug. She could kinda guess at what that kid must be feeling - handouts were never her thing either. Jay must’ve caught on because he nodded. “I guess you can take it out of my bill for the car, okay?”

Only then did Carlos reach out and carefully grab the tools, a ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “Thank you.”

“I see the long-haired greaser has returned.”

Mal had been so busy watching the boys’ interaction that she hadn’t noticed someone else emerging from the garage. She turned now to see a dark-haired girl heading towards them. At the sight of her blue dress and perfectly shaded makeup, the former felt her mouth go dry. Holy shit, where had this girl been all her life? “You must be Evie.” She studied the other girl carefully, her eyes sweeping up her whole body, drinking it all in. “Jay told me about you.”

“What did he say?” Evie kept her head held high, her dark curls falling loosely over her shoulders.

“That I should really go down and meet the princess at Hell Hall.” Mal gave her another look over. “I must say, he left out the part about you being a total babe, though.”

“Fairly fucking sure I didn’t,” came Jay’s smug voice.

“I’m straight,” the brunette whispered fiercely, but her eyes were still locked on Mal, red lips parted slightly, and Mal raised an eyebrow. She’d been around enough liars in her life to spot one herself - especially a _bad_ one.

“Sure. Everyone’s just a little bit gay, Princess, even you,” Mal laughed, adopting Jay’s nickname for her.

Evie only shook her head and turned on her heel, walking back over to Carlos. Over her shoulder, she called, “I don’t know what Jay told you, but I’m here this morning for Carlos and Carlos alone.”

Holy hell.

This girl had better be gay or Mal might just throw herself off the nearest cliff. She didn’t suppose she’d ever meet anyone as frustratingly amazing as Evie for the rest of her life.

* * *

 

**~J~**

Carlos had smiled at him.

Not much, but enough to know he still could.

Jay was very glad he’d remembered that old tool box, despite Mal’s grousing this morning. She was always grumpy when she woke up, no matter what time of day.

“Jay, this was really thoughtful,” Carlos said in that quiet, sure tone of his. “Thank you.” And then he motioned for Jay to follow him into the garage. The older boy went gladly. “See, I got the part you needed for the engine, and I’ll replace the hood. It’s not the same color panel, but I figured it might work anyway. Better than the dented one.” Carlos moved quickly, grabbing things off shelves and settling himself in front of the busted door.

Jay watched, half in awe. Carlos was a little more talkative today, and he liked it. “Yeah, I think Mal is too busy flirting with Evie to care about her car’s color anymore.”

Carlos stopped working for a moment and looked out to where Mal was still attempting to seduce a seemingly indifferent Evie. “Oh hell,” the smaller boy laughed softly, and Jay was taken aback. It was a very cute laugh.

“Is she as straight as she insists she is?”

Carlos bit his lip, turning back to his work. “That’s not for me to say.”

That was really the only answer Jay needed, so he didn’t press it any farther. Mal could try and lure the girl out of the closet, but he had a feeling she was locked in tight.

“I brought something else too, but only if you want it.” Jay reached into his pocket and brought out a white jar. He’d gotten up to look for this at six a.m., too. It hadn’t been as hard to locate as the tools - he and Mal needed bruise cream more often than they needed a wrench at this point. “Just drugstore stuff, but this brand works. Uh, I’ve used it plenty of times.”

The freckled boy stared for a moment, taking it and turning it over. “Does it really work?”

“It better, or Mal and my bruises are just fading on their own.”

Nodding, Carlos hesitated half a second more before opening it to smear some gingerly on his bruised eye, which looked much more swollen and angry than it had the day before. Up close, Jay saw that purple streaked the underside of his eye and even up over the lid, fading out into a nasty orange.

“How long have you worked here?” Jay turned his attention to the rest of the garage, trying not to watch Carlos too closely in case it made the kid uncomfortable.

“Awhile.”

The clanking started up again, and Jay felt safe to look over again. Sure enough, Carlos had finished with the cream and returned to the car. “Dope. I mean, it’s a cash flow, right? Do you get to keep all the money from the cars you fix up?”

“Mostly.” Carlos kept working. “She doesn’t know I do it, so unless she asks me to hand over whatever is in my pocket….”  

That explained why he’d rushed from the place yesterday. Or partly, at least.

Abruptly, Mal came storming into the garage, Evie following close behind. “Jay, tell Miss Priss here that I’m a good lay.”

“No, she’s not,” Jay snorted, turning to the dark-haired girl who still looked too curious for her vigorous resistance to ring true. “She’s a disaster. No horny little fuck ever stays over for more than a night. Although, in her defense, it’s only because of her prickly personality, not her skills.”

“Some wingman you are.” Mal punched his arm, huffing.

“I told her about you as soon as I saw her!” Jay protested, punching her back.

“Were you one of those ‘lucky few’ to end up in her bed, Jay?” Evie asked, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him.  Oh, she thought _they_ were a thing. That was funny.

“Oh, hell no.” Jay grimaced, shaking his head violently as Mal cackled. Then, with a quick glance over at Carlos, he cleared his throat. “She lacks a dick that I find necessary, among other things.”

Mal’s mouth dropped open. “The fuck has gotten into you?” she hissed, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “One little crush, and you suddenly forget what an ass your dad is?”

“It’s alright, Mal.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook away the tingly feeling that started in his legs whenever anyone brought up his father. The truth was, Jay didn’t know why he’d just announced it all, but he guessed it had something to do with the feeling that he really, really didn’t want Carlos thinking he was straight.

Just in case.

* * *

 

** ~C~ **

 

So Jay was gay.

Carlos wasn’t necessarily surprised. He hadn’t missed the way the other boy looked over at him when he’d come out. And Jay _was_ good looking; he wasn’t going to deny himself that fact.

“Ugh, you and me both. Screw vagina.”  

Evie looked ready to throw hands. “Carlos!”

“You knew that! You’ve known that for years!” he protested, folding his arms.

“But… not in front of…” Evie not-so-subtly gestured to Mal and Jay.

“It’s fine,” the freckled boy gave her a wry smile. “What’s he gonna do? Call me a fag?”

“That would be counterproductive, wouldn’t it?” Jay was still grinning. He kind of enjoyed the twin expressions of shock on Evie and Mal’s faces. Nothing like a good coming out to get people’s jaws dropping.

Carlos went back to working on the car, a tiny smile trying to show on his lips. Every once and awhile, he’d take a peek over his shoulder at Jay, who would give him a grin and a nod.

“So,” Jay said in a low a few moments later as he leaned against the wall. “You’re into guys, huh?”

“Maybe I am.” Carlos tried not to blush.

“Any particular guy you’re into right now?”

Letting himself half glance up again, the freckled boy couldn’t help smiling at the expression on Jay’s face. He looked smug and knowing and maybe even a little bit hopeful. “Depends.”

“You really like this whole cryptic vibe, don’t you?” Jay chuckled, shaking his head. A few strands of hair fell into his face, and Carlos noticed now that there were a few braids thrown into the mix today.

“And you like joining braid chains, apparently.”

The other boy actually snorted. “Hey, if you had all this hair, you’d want it braided back, too.”

Carlos turned back to his work, but mostly just to hide his smile. He didn’t think anyone as cute as Jay had ever flirted with him. He didn’t quite know what to do with the information, so he just let it stay there in his brain, going over the possibilities (and consequences) a million times.

Scenario one: Jay wasn’t into him at all and just wanted to fuck around.

Scenario two: Jay wanted him to fix the rest of his car for free and was laying on the charm.

Scenario three: Jay really just liked him.

Out of all the scenarios Carlos came up with, the third one seemed least likely. It was also, coincidentally, the one he hoped most of all was the truth. He mulled the situation over for so long that he finished replacing the panel in record timing.

“Impressive,” Jay grinned. “That was faster than any other auto shop in town, I’ll give you that.”

“Are you… like, messing with me?”

“About the car?” Jay gave him a quizzical look. “No, dude, I mean it. That was fast. You were in some kind of a zone or something.”

“No, not exactly - well, yes, that, too - but,” Carlos couldn’t seem to find the right words. “This whole, you being chill with me thing. It’s not fake?”

“Fake?” Jay stared at him for a moment, wetting his lips quickly. “Evie being straight? That’s fake. Police officers that say ‘we just wanna help you, young man’?  Also fake. But me thinking you’re cute? Nah, man, that’s not fake. Not by a longshot.”

Something warm bloomed inside Carlos’ chest (and his cheeks, too). His heart started beating a little too quickly and his breath became just a little too shallow, but not in the way that he was used to. He wasn’t in any danger, no. This was… different. He almost liked it.

_Jay thinks I’m cute._

Unfortunately, reality came crashing through his tiny moment of sunlight all too quickly.  Familiar sounds of clattering sounded inside the house, shattered his happy realization into a hundred little shards.

“Why does she keep getting back from the salon so early,” Carlos mumbled agitatedly, pulling at his hair. She never used to get back this early, why now? As soon as he found a friendly face, she decided to be efficient? Was she really that subconsciously determined to make his life as hellish as possible?

“Carlos! Pet! _Carlos_!”

And then he was sprinting, his heart preparing to jump out of his chest, going over all the shit he was supposed to have done, the shit he _had_ done - hadn't he? Had he finished the list? What had he forgotten? If she was yelling, he’d probably forgotten something.

Cruella was standing in the dusty, dark foyer. The melted down candles on the table barely gave enough light to see properly. The shadowy room had a high ceiling and long, stained windows, but to Carlos, it felt smaller than a broom closet. His mother had that effect on the place.

“Is this how you greet your mother?” she barked, holding her furs up so they wouldn’t drag across the ground. A cloud of smoke drifted lazily into the air as she took a final drag on a dying cigarette. “Does she really have to scream her throat out to get your attention?”

“I -”

“Baby, _”_ she sighed dramatically, watching him balefully. “When I left, I gave you very simple instructions, didn't I?”

“Yes.”

“So,” Cruella laughed humorlessly. “Then tell me, darling, why does it look like you got absolutely nothing done? I really don't understand. Please explain it to me.”

“I got sidetracked - I thought I finished -” Carlos started, but his vision went fuzzy as something cold and _sharp_ made contact with his cheek.

_Her keys. She hit me with her keys. The keys to that stupid car she adores._

“Carlos, you’re the reason nothing gets done around here,” his mother sighed, her acrylics closing around the base of his neck. “I work so hard, and you just expect me to do it all for you.”

“Yes, Mom, I know, I -”

“Your excuses suck the life out of me.” She tossed the furs and he dove to catch them. “Hang those up, darling. Mommy really doesn’t like them dragging on the floor.”

Carlos could barely see around the armfuls of fur, coughing as the scent of cigarette smoke and dollar store perfume assaulted his nose.

“Oh, baby,” his mother cooed. “I’m sorry for hitting you. You know I don’t mean to, I just get so worked up when you don’t listen.”

“I know, Mother.”

Something warm and metalicy was dripping into his mouth, and he vaguely registered that his cheek was still stinging. Judging from the pops and hisses coming from the kitchen, she was pouring herself a drink now.

_Fantastic._

And despite the stinging, despite the sounds of bottles opening, a tiny, stupid little voice wouldn’t shut up, singing quietly (and foolishly) in the back of his mind.

_Jay thinks I’m cute._

* * *

 

**~E~**

 

“Mother?”

“Mommy?”

Mal and Jay were both staring at Evie, definitely searching for answers now. Cruella had screeched the fact, Carlos had confirmed it; really, it wasn’t their fault they’d overheard. Still, Evie couldn’t help grappling with the urge to lie for a moment. To try and cover up whatever they heard, to send them away. She shouldn’t have ever let them get so close to her and Carlos. A hundred sirens were blaring full-volume inside her head as the seconds ticked by.

“Carlos doesn’t work here, does he?” Mal looked like she already knew that answer.

“I mean, he wasn’t necessarily lying.” Evie didn't know how much she should give away. Carlos wasn't here; it wasn't her life to reveal. They’d promised each other they’d never tell a soul. “He works his ass off. Just… not for payment.” Evie watched their faces anxiously, her eyes flicking from one stone-cold face to the other. Mal and Jay couldn’t call the cops, they couldn’t report this, if Carlos got taken away from Cruella - “You guys might not understand,” she said hurriedly. “But don't worry, it’s cool. Listen, we got this under control. And no, he hasn't called the cops, because then the court would get involved and put him in-"

"Foster care." Mal’s steady, low voice cut through her tumbling words. "And even if this sucks ass, it's better than do-good people with bratty children who want to ‘fix you’, right?”

Evie opened her mouth and then shut it again, trying to make sense of the new pieces Mal had just thrown into the mix. The way Mal talked about foster care… like she was afraid of it, too. "Wait a moment - earlier you said that Jay woke you up this morning. Do you two… live together?”

"Surprise.” The purple-haired girl glanced over at Jay with a shrug.

Evie stared, trying to wrap her head around this new information. “But-  you guys said you weren't together _?_ Then why - are you siblings? Just - friends who share a house?"

"Oh come on, Princess,” Mal huffed. “You should've figured out something was up the moment Jay didn't call the damn cops when he saw what that bitch had done yesterday. We’re roommates. And that’s all you need to know for now.”

“Oh.” Evie appraised them both all over again, studying their faces carefully. She didn't know why she was so surprised - kids moved in together all the time - but these two seemed closer than simply roommates. “So -”

“In our case, water is much thicker than blood,” Mal shrugged. “Jay and I live together. You don’t need to worry about it.”  

“It’s a whole story and a half, Princess,” Jay added. He didn’t elaborate, not that Evie had really expected him to.  

Eventually, they must’ve gotten tired of Evie staring at them because Mal changed the subject. “Carlos is gonna need some cleaning up.” She looked like she was already picturing what kind of injuries he had sustained, her eyes narrowed and calculating. “Does he know how to do that?”

“He doesn't exactly have the supplies,” Evie sighed, remembering the last time she’d tried to bring him drugstore solutions. She’d been attempting to sneak Carlos supplies - food, pillows, first aid kids - since she’d figured out who his mother was during a school project years and years ago. It never ended well. “Every time I try to bring him stuff, his mother just throws it all away and punishes -”

“That’s not good,” Mal interrupted with a little frown. “Especially if you two are trying to keep this on the down low. Mysterious cuts and bruises raise questions you don’t wanna have to answer.”

“We do the best we can.” Evie didn’t want Mal to think they _flaunted_ his situation. They were fully capable of handling this without her apparently _expert_ aid. Unfortunately, the purple-haired girl didn’t seem to share the same opinion.

“Bring him over to our place.” Mal looked dead serious. “You can come, too, if you’re worried about us molesting him or something. Jay and I are pretty good with that kind of shit; we can get him patched up.”

Evie glanced back up at the house, where Carlos was surely anything but okay, and sighed. “I’ll have to talk to him. He’s not very open to strangers.” She definitely didn’t want Mal thinking she could swoop in and take her only real friend.

“He’ll come.” Jay was biting his lip like he was trying to hold back one of those smirks. “Did you see the way he was smiling at me earlier?”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” But suddenly, Evie wasn’t so sure. The Carlos she knew didn’t smile very often, especially not at boys like Jay. But she’d definitely seen him do it a couple of times that morning, and probably more when she hadn’t been looking, so maybe he would agree. What then? What would that mean for her? “Where do you guys live, anyway?”

“Are you coming?” Mal spit her gum into a flower pot.

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s not fancy, Princess,” the purple-haired girl warned. “Don’t expect a red carpet.”

“Or working appliances,” Jay said under his breath, getting a laugh out of Mal.  

“Where do you live?” Evie asked again, ignoring the other girl’s last jab. She wasn’t going to stoop to her level just because the latter had noticed her class. It was about time.

“In one of those apartment buildings off Elm.” Mal challenged her stare, setting her jaw like she was daring Evie to make a comment.

“Elm Street?” Evie gaped. “You mean - the apartments that are… like by the uh, _adult_ shops? And the liquor store?”

“That’s them.”

“Nightmare on Elm Street was based on a true story, apparently,” Evie muttered, shaking her head. There was no way she was going to _that_ side of town with two strangers who seemed way too interested in Carlos’ situation. That sounded like the plot to a slasher film all on its own. “Do you two even have a bathroom?” At least a mirror. There was no way Evie was going any place that didn’t have a mirror.

“Yes, we have a bathroom,” Mal scoffed, rolling her eyes. “It’s an apartment, not a shed. We also have electricity and running water, in case you were gonna ask that, too.”

“The hot water is temperamental, though,” Jay interejected. “Just like this one over here.” He jerked a thumb towards Mal, who snapped her jaw him.

“And you guys live there. Alone.” Evie watched the two of them closely, having a hard time imagining what that would be like. How would it feel to have no semblance of parental authority? Had they been kicked out? Had their parents not wanted them anymore? Did they even go to school? “How old are you guys?”

“Eighteen,” they answered together, and Evie shook her head. Her age. These kids were her age and living on their own in some dumpy apartment on the wrong side of town. The things her mother would say if she caught wind of this - she’d have some very choice words for these two, that was for sure.

“And you… you pay for it? And food and clothes and… everything?” Evie asked. “Do you guys have a job?”

“Of sorts.” Jay didn’t look like he was going to give her anything more than that, and her mind flashed a little warning. “Of sorts” sounded a lot like what Carlos said when people asked him about _his_ job.

“So, Princess, what’s it gonna be?”

As if on cue, Carlos walked back into the garage, holding a wad of toilet paper to his cheek. The suspicious splotches of scarlet seeping through the tissue told Evie that it was probably going to need more attention than just pressure.

“Carlos.”

“Evie.” His voice sounded flat, and she hated it. She definitely, without a doubt, did not want to go with Jay and Mal. But seeing him suffer day after day with absolutely no way to help him - it was getting to be unbearable.

“They heard.” Evie didn’t see the point in trying to keep that from him. “They know who she is - Cruella, I mean. They know she's your mom.”

Before Carlos could even react to what she’d said, Jay spoke up. “We’re not gonna do anything. Not gonna call anyone, not gonna tell anyone. The only thing we might do is invite you over to get some real medical supplies, and not just, uh toilet paper.”

Carlos stared at him, unmoving. Evie wasn’t even sure if he was breathing anymore, but after several beats of heavy silence, he just nodded.

“Wh - Carlos -” she sputtered, unable to believe what had just happened.

“Evie.” He turned to her, his eyes meeting hers, and for the first time, she saw the tiniest flicker of _something._ “Please.”

He rarely begged for anything. In fact, she hadn’t heard him ask for anything, ever. And how could she say no now, especially when he had that look on his face?

“Alright. Alright, fine. We’ll -” Evie took a deep breath. “We’ll come over to your, uh, _apartment.”_

She was definitely going to need some hand sanitizer.

 

 


	3. Support and Superiority

**~M~**

 

“Alright, come on in, don't worry about taking off your shoes if it makes you uncomfortable, and be aware that I hate wearing pants.”

As she stepped over the threshold, Mal caught Jay rolling his eyes at her little speech and she flipped him off in return.  Their place was tiny, no bigger than Carlos’ garage. Between a pathetic little kitchen, a wobbly table, and a pair of twin sized beds in the back corner, there was hardly any space to spare. It wasn’t exactly tidy either, not that Mal cared much. Clothes, newspapers, and last night’s Chinese takeout littered just about every available surface.

“Now I know how you lost a toolbox in this mess.” Evie looked slightly repulsed as she glanced around, making a show of avoiding contact with any of the walls. Mal couldn’t help scoffing a little; the apartment wasn’t _that_ dirty. It was still home, despite the clutter.

“It's messier than usual.” Jay kicked a pile of t-shirts into the corner. “We don't usually have guests, you know?”

“Can't imagine why.” The brunette girl sidestepped a pile of Mal’s underwear. “Seriously?”

Mal noticed the blush coloring those perfect cheeks and grinned. “My bad, _Princess_ ,” she drawled.

“Unbelievable.”

“Look.” Mal stooped down and balled them up, tossing them into the overflowing wicker laundry basket they kept in the corner. “Happy?”

“It’s common decency, Mal.” Evie still had a disgusted little sneer on her face, and the purple-haired girl wondered what it would be like to kiss it away, to smudge that perfect red lipstick across those perfect red lips. Maybe she would tilt her head back -

“Hey, Dragon Breath, where did you put the first aid kit the other night?” Jay cut right through her little fantasy, now digging around in the kitchen cabinets.

“Lower one to the right.” She tried not to sound too bitter about losing the wonderful daydream. She could always revisit it later.

It took Jay several minutes to find the kit. He pulled out a mismatched set of plastic tupperware, half a roll of paper towels, and what Mal recognized to be an old spray bottle before he finally located it.

“Why do we still have this shit?” He examined the other stuff he’d found with a frown. “Why did you shove the thing all the way in the back?”

“I’ve been a little preoccupied,” she responded snarkily. “Sorry I haven’t gotten around to spring cleaning.”  

Shaking his head, Jay held up the black plastic b x he’d dragged from the very back of the cabinet. It was black and clunky and their saving grace. Mal had opened that kit in a hurry more times than she cared to remember.

“Oh my gosh!” Evie caught Mal looking her way and flushed more, hurriedly explaining. “That’s just a really heavy-duty first aid kit. Did you guys steal it from a hospital or something?”

Mal hid her smile. Evie wasn’t far off from the truth, but she wasn’t sure the girl was capable of processing that information, not yet anyway. “That doesn’t matter. We came to get Carlos patched up, not analyze the shit in our cabinets.”

Over on one of the beds, Jay had already started cleaning Carlos’ cuts with a swab of cotton and some antiseptic solution. It must've stung because Carlos was hissing through his teeth, gripping Jay’s free hand.

“Sorry, just a little more, ‘Los,” Jay was promising, pausing for just a moment. “I gotta clean it.”

“I know, it’s good. Do what you gotta do.” The white-haired boy took a breath, nodding. Mal figured Jay was enjoying being the “comforter”. If nothing else came from all of this, at least he got to hold Carlos’ hand.  Carlos braced himself as the cotton rubbed across his cheek again, but he didn’t cry out loudly or groan. Mal raised an eyebrow, surprised; his pain threshold must’ve been higher than she’d initially predicted.

Mal turned to look at Evie again, who was watching the boys with wide eyes. At first, Mal thought she was concerned about Carlos’ pain, and the former wanted to laugh. Carlos was clearly doing fine. But then, she caught a mostly silent exchange between her and Carlos next time he looked Evie’s way.

 _“Nicknames already?”_ Evie mouthed, gesturing to Jay less-than-subtly. _“Really?”_

“Jay is big on nicknames,” Mal cut in uninvited with a small laugh, watching the taller boy fondly and hoping it didn’t show on her face. They didn’t get to talk about Jay behind his back; not when he was sitting right there. “He rarely calls me Mal, you know. It's Dragon if he's happy with me.”

“Fucker or asshat if I'm not,” Jay grinned before going back to Carlos’ injuries.

“Dragon?” Evie looked at them quizzically, and Mal smiled. She pulled up her sleeve to reveal her bold dragon tattoo, watching Evie’s face morph from questioning to shocked again.

“Yeah,” Mal smirked, satisfied. She loved getting good reactions from people. It made life more entertaining. “Dragon.”

“Evie likes to use my full name if she's angry,” Carlos spoke up, wincing again as Jay dragged the cotton across the ragged cut on his cheek.

“Which is?” The older boy raised his eyebrows, pausing with the cotton in midair. He looked way too interested, and Mal made a mental note to tease him about it later.

“Not telling.” Carlos looked thrilled at the prospect of hiding it, which probably just made Jay even more excited.

“I'll get it out of you,” Jay swore with a smile. “Mark my words, de Vil.” But as he studied the cut on Carlos’ cheek, his grin faded. Even from where Mal was standing, she could see how unlucky the hit had been - right across the bone. “Yeah, that’s gonna need stitches, sorry dude.” Jay began sterilizing a needle. “Don't want it to scar.”

“It can just join the others,” Carlos muttered, but let Jay prepare the cut anyway.

“He makes pretty neat stitches,” Mal promised. “Which is surprising because his handwriting is god awful.”

“It’s cursive!”

“It's chicken scratch!” Mal glared at him playfully. “Trust me.”

“‘Los, we -” Jay glanced at Mal again, shrugging. “We don’t have antiseptic or anything.” They usually just used booze to take the edge off.

“It’s fine,” the smaller boy assured him with a gentle smile. “Seriously, Jay, it’s all good.” He shifted his position and turned his cheek towards Jay, nodding. “Go for it.”

“It’s gonna hurt.”

“And what of it?”

Mal didn’t miss how Jay grinned, an unfamiliar little gleam dancing in those dark eyes. She studied his face, feeling another wave of sudden fondness overtake her. She knew Jay was impressed, maybe even a little bit turned on. But mostly, Jay was happy. Carlos made him happy, and Mal owed the kid for that.

It had been awhile since she’d seen Jay so genuinely excited about someone.

* * *

 

**~J~**

 

Carlos had looked better.

He’d also probably looked worse, but Jay didn’t dwell on that for too long.  

The freckled boy hadn't told him exactly what his mother had done, but Jay found he didn’t really need the full explanation, at least not for now. He did wish the woman had picked an arm or a shoulder to slice open, though - cheeks weren’t exactly easy to cover up - but it would be fine. Together, they might even be able to come up with a pretty good cover story to deflect any suspicious questions on the street.

 _Together?_ Jay realized, snorting inwardly. _Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?_

“So, your mother’s a bitch,” Jay said out loud as he threaded the needle. Talking was a great way to ease nerves, especially ones that came with a stranger stitching up a cut. So far though, Carlos didn’t seem too freaked out.

“A psychotic one.” Carlos was gripping Jay’s arm now in preparation, eyeing the needle a bit.

“That’s a sewing needle,” Evie observed from a few feet away, agitated. “And it looks blunt. You’re gonna sew up his _cheek?_ With _that?”_

“Having doubts?” Mal flashed her a look, pulling up her shirt again to reveal a long pink scar. “Got this a few months ago. He stitched me up, and it’s fading a little bit more every day.”

And although Evie still looked concerned, the comment at least got her to shut her mouth so Jay could concentrate. He really didn’t want to fuck up Carlos’ face on his first time ever bringing him home.

“Now I know why you were so vague about your job,” he said, turning back to Carlos.

“Well, normally, people would've tried to report her - _agh,”_ Carlos screwed his eyes up, his face contorting as the needle pierced his skin.

“Shh, stay still,” Jay coaxed. “Try not to talk.”

“You started it!”

“Oh, yeah,” the taller teen said sheepishly, his cheeks heating up some. He hadn’t gotten this clumsy around someone in a long time. Usually, he could stitch someone up without any mishaps at all. “My bad.”

And other than shallow breathing, Carlos didn’t make another noise after that. Jay would’ve been impressed with the way he was responding to the pain, but something told him that this was in no way the worst thing he’d endured. The kid might look small, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing: it meant he could be underestimated, mistaken as weak.

 _I could use him on the streets,_ Jay thought as he tied off the stitches. _I wonder if he’d be up for it. He seems down for just about anything._

And as Jay washed the cut one more time, he almost asked him, but caught the words before they could form completely. It seemed a little too soon. The taller boy really didn’t want to scare him off.

The skin around the stitches was still raw and tender, but they did the job, even if they were a little scraggly. Definitely not Jay’s best work, which he lamented for a moment before shaking his head. “Sorry, man, the cheek is a tough spot. I hope these are good enough.”

“Carlos usually does nothing at all, so it’s a step up,” Evie cut in, coming over to examine them. “How’re you feeling?”

“Well, that didn’t feel so great,” Carlos managed a grim smile. “But I’m gonna be okay.”

“Hell yeah, you are.” Jay admired Carlos for a moment, sitting back on the bed, studying the other boy with a strange sense of pride. “You're strong as fuck, pup.”

“Pup?” Evie blinked, glancing back at Mal who just gave her a “I-told-you-so” nod.

“Yeah, he sorta looks like a little puppy or something,” Jay explained, gesturing to his face. “Like, his freckles and the curls and shit.”

“A puppy?” Carlos wrinkled his nose, his head tilted slightly, which did loads to prove Jay’s point.

“Carlos isn't a fan of dogs,” Evie translated, putting a hand on his shoulder. Jay recognized the subtle possessiveness behind the gesture.

“Dead terrified, actually,” the white-haired boy snickered, giving Evie’s hand a squeeze.

“Well, that's even better.” Jay smiled at him. “You might not look like it at first glance, but you hold a certain power over - certain people.”

Jay hoped Carlos understood what he was really implying because he wouldn’t have admitted it out loud if Mal was holding a dagger to his throat.

At least not yet, anyway.

* * *

 

**~C~**

  


Carlos understood perfectly.

And he liked the idea of holding some sort of power, even just a little bit, over Jay. It made him feel not quite so small to know that a badass (gorgeous) guy was into him.

“Alright, well, now that the medical procedure is finished,” Jay continued, looking up at him as he repacked the first aid kit. “You want something to eat? You can stay for a bit, unless you need to get home or something. ”

Carlos stared at Jay for a moment, distracted by his eyes. Dark, wild, and maybe a little bit hopeful. That same fluttery, hopefully feeling had settled in his chest, too. His mother didn’t need him home just yet; he could stay. But before he could make Jay’s eyes glitter even brighter with his answer, Mal interrupted them.

“Evie, do either of you two smoke?” she asked, sniffing the air.

Immediately, Carlos felt his cheeks heat up, and he lowered his gaze to the blanket on the bed,  twisting it in his hands. “My mother does. That's… yeah, I know I smell like it. It’s my clothes. Sorry, I hate it, too.” As if to prove his point, a sudden strong whiff of the smoke assaulted his nostrils as he leaned down, the sudden tightness in his chest squeezing his breath away. The coughing fit that followed lasted for what felt like an eternity as he dug his nails into his palm, trying to stop.

When the tension in his chest finally eased up, he glanced down, embarrassed. Of course it was his stupid weak lungs that made him look bad, right when Jay was asking him to stay over.

“Hey, ‘Los?” Jay asked, and Carlos couldn’t help cringing a little. But when he finally found the courage to meet Jay’s gaze, he saw they’d softened in what seemed like genuine concern. “Wanna borrow a change of clothes?”

“None of yours will fit him,” Mal protested, raising an eyebrow. There was an obvious size difference between them; Jay wasn’t just taller than Carlos - his biceps, his chest, his torso - everything about him was stronger and bolder. Jay didn’t seem to care though as he walked across the room.

“Personally, I’ve always found oversized clothes to be adorable.” He grinned and dug through some drawers, pulling out a sweatshirt and a pair of old sweats. “Here, pup. Try these. Only if you want, of course.”

Carlos caught sight of Mal rolling her eyes and grinned inwardly. It was sort of fun to make the other girl annoyed. It wasn’t anything like his mother’s fits, where her eyes would get dark and it felt like her very sanity stretched like a rubber band about to snap. Mal was a grumpy, affectionate kind of annoyed. The type where she’d try to hide her smile with a scoff.

“Sure,” the white-haired boy finally answered. “Yeah, I’ll change.” And with outstretched arms, he took the clothes and hugged them to his chest.

“Bathroom is back there,” Jay told him, pointing to a paint-chipped door. “The lock is kinda weird, though; you have to sort of wrestle with it.”

“Something else is broken in this shithole?” Evie muttered under her breath. “Go figure.”

Both Mal and Jay glanced at each other for half a second, and Carlos suddenly wished Evie had kept her mouth shut. The other two had been so generous - first the stitches, now the clothes. And besides, this apartment was way friendlier than his house would ever be. It felt lived in - like a home.

“Go change, ‘Los,” Jay instructed, the ice in his eyes fading a little. “And, uh, don’t worry about the lock, I guess.”

But Carlos did worry about the lock. Going into the bathroom, he examined it carefully. “If I bring over some of my tiny screwdrivers, I can fix this,” he called. “It’s just a little loose and a bit rusty.”

“Fuck, thanks,” he heard Jay say. “Then I’ll owe you more than I already do.”

And as he started to change, smiling to himself, Carlos could also hear Mal grumbling to Jay about “going too fast” and “thought you said you were done with this kind of thing”. That made him feel kind of special inside, even though he couldn’t quite explain why.

Stripping down, his thoughts stayed trained on Mal. She was interesting to him. She had fire behind her green eyes, but the kind of painful fire that had been stoked almost desperately to prevent it from being extinguished. And despite her stony exterior, he couldn’t help liking her. She made him feel safer, somehow. Even the harshest parts of the world seemed a bit wary of those green eyed glares he’d seen her throw. He hoped Evie would come around soon and lighten up with her, but he wasn’t going to push it. They still had a deal, after all. He’d revealed himself, but that didn’t give him a right to out her.

Jay’s clothes smelled nice, which weirdly enough, made him feel all warm inside. Carlos let himself take a couple sniffs just to figure out what they reminded him of, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. They were soft, too, like Jay had washed and worn them a million times.

“You good back there?” Jay sounded worried, like he’d actually noticed how long Carlos had been gone.

“Sorry, yeah, just - uh -” Carlos scratched the back of his neck as he emerged, trailing off. “Your clothes smell kinda nice, you know? It’s been awhile since I could put on a shirt without hacking up a lung.”

The taller boy’s lips curled into a smile and he exhaled through his nose in a show of laughter. “Well, keep these then. We’ll wash your other ones and try to get that smell out.”

“You can try.” Carlos handed him the pile clothes in his arms. “I’ve been working to scrub the smoke out of them for years. Just toss them.”

“You sure?” Jay looked unsure, as if he knew how precious belongings could be. “I’m gonna run a load and if they still reek, we can strip them to use as bandages.”

The use of the word “we” wasn’t lost on Carlos, or Evie by the looks of it. And while he felt that glow in his chest again, she clearly didn’t. Her face had set into very rigid lines, and he knew she was trying desperately not to get caught up in all of this. A new battle arose in Carlos’ mind, and he spent a good while trying to decide whether to trust Evie’s careful scrutiny or Jay’s warm, calm welcome.

He wanted to belong. He liked Jay and Mal’s fierce loyalty to each other. He wanted that. And the more he thought about it, Carlos realized for the first time that he could see something beyond hell. But Evie…

She was looking around stiffly, her fingers playing at the hem of her skirt. Maybe she didn’t want this as much as he did. She was already taking a risk hanging out with him. If her mother caught Evie with Mal and Jay, she’d be utterly humiliated. And he should stick by her, of course. Evie always stuck by him. In fact, they usually agreed on most issues.

Except this one.

* * *

 

**~E~**

 

Evie couldn't stop staring at Carlos.

His shoulders had uncurled a bit since they’d arrived, and he was now staring at Jay like, well, like maybe he’d struck gold. And although she could still see the hint of chronic distrust in his eyes - that flicker was always there and probably always would be - for the time being, he looked almost like he was willing to take this chance.

And she wanted more than anything for him to really have found something of worth. But these people, she just - she didn’t -

“Princess?” Mal was eyeing her now, her arms crossed. “You don’t trust us.” It wasn’t a question.

“Well - I just - this isn’t my usual crowd.” She tried to put it into words, something that didn’t sound quite as insulting as it did in her brain. “I - my mother would -”

“Her mom is,” Carlos cleared his throat, making a face, “obsessed with Evie’s image. Like she’s crossed the line of obsessed and ventured into almost as batshit as my mother.”

“Carlos,” Evie hissed, making a panicked face. Yes, Jay and Mal had been mostly kind - helpful, even. They seemed to understand Carlos’ pain and didn’t ask too many questions, but she was not going to sit here and relay her whole life story to a couple of strangers in the hopes of being accepted into, what? Their little band of misfits? Outcasts?

“Evie, it’s alright,” Carlos said, and she knew he was trying to reassure her. And standing there, dressed in Jay’s clothes, he looked like he almost fit in with them. But she - she was an uptown princess, a prom queen, not a street rat who needed a pack to survive.

“I- I should get going.” She was already backing towards the door.

“Evie, wait.” Carlos was trying to send her silent signals, a quiet ‘are you okay?’. But she wasn’t. Not at all.

“Carlos, let her go.” Surprisingly enough, it was Mal who spoke. “If she truly needs to leave,” she paused to give Evie a look, and Evie knew in that moment Mal didn’t believe her bullshit excuse one bit. “Then let her do it.”

Once she was out in the hallway, Evie let herself take a shuddering breath. She would not cry; she would not cry; she'd spent _hours_ on her makeup that morning. Evie understood why Carlos could so easily take this risk, why he was still inside. He had nothing to lose. But she… she had everything.

Evie had made it halfway down the stairs to the parking lot before she realized Jay had drove them there. Her car was back at Carlos’ house, and she was trapped in this shitty apartment complex with the most gorgeous girl she'd ever seen waiting upstairs to ruin her reputation. That tightness in her throat started up again.

 _I’m gonna have to call my mother,_ she realized with a panicked gasp. _Oh my God, Mom’s gonna flay me alive when she finds me here. She’s gonna -_

“Evie?”

Evie jumped, mid freak-out, and turned to see Mal coming down behind her, her footsteps somehow dead quiet on the metal stairs. “I really don't want to talk to you,” Evie managed to get out. “Listen, this was really nice, but I don't associate with - with people like you -”

“Chill.” Mal cut through Evie’s desperate babble, waving a pair of keys. “I was gonna offer to drive you home. No need to be a bitch.”

“Oh.”

Mal really was pretty, with those bright green eyes and the faintest of freckles on her nose. They weren't quite as prominent as Carlos’ splatter of spots, but in her opinion, these were just as cute.

_Stop, stop, Evie, stop. Listen to what you're saying, look how disgusting you are._

“Look,” Mal swung the keys on her finger. “I get it. You're high class, you don't cuss, you probably don't drink, but you're not better than us. Got it? I don't know what your family is like, okay, I don't. But I know mine and Jay’s and we got a pretty good idea what Carlos’ is like, and we’re all managing, so don't you dare come into _our_ shitty little flat and act like you're queen of the fucking world just because your friend needed a little patching up from those of us who get it.”

Evie’s vision became a little blurry and her jaw hurt with the force she was using to keep the sobs in. Nodding, she took another shaky breath.

“And furthermore,” Mal continued, not breaking eye contact. “We really don't give a damn if you like us or not. However, if this whole rich bitch thing turns out to be an act - well, you’re welcome to reconsider our _generous extension of companionship_ at any time.”

When Evie nodded again, Mal finally walked out the car. Finally taking a shaky breath, Evie set the GPS on her phone before sitting quietly, her ankles crossed and arms folded. She didn't say another word the whole way home. When she finally stepped out and began walking up the long, well-groomed drive, Mal rolled down her window.

“You'll soon find, Princess, this world sucks,” the purple-haired girl called. “It's not gonna be nice to you. And when it turns on you, you’ll regret not having someone in your corner.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for continuing to read :) every single kudo and comment is so so appreciated!


	4. Backstories and Bad Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a little quick warning before this chapter begins: there is a description of a panic attack at the end of the chapter, so if that's something that will bother you, go ahead and skip evie's section.

**~M~**

 

“What's your plan for today?” 

Jay was barely out of bed, still half asleep, and Mal purposefully made as much noise as possible in the kitchen to keep him awake. If she had to be up, so did he. 

“Will you shut up? ‘S early,” came his hoarse groan. 

She ignored him. “Are you gonna pick up Carlos again?” 

At the name, Jay finally perked up a bit. “Yeah, I texted him last night. Do you know his mom doesn't know he has a phone? He fixed it up himself, downloaded the newest software and everything.”  

It had been a week since Carlos started coming over regularly, and although the cuts and black eyes hadn't stopped, the misery that had been etched into his face had begun to soften a bit. Mal had even noticed him smiling with Jay when he didn't see her watching. 

“That didn't really answer my question,” Mal sipped the lukewarm coffee, making a face. “And you're barely awake, and you're already gushing. It’s disgusting.” 

“Not gushing.” Jay started getting dressed, taking the opportunity to flip her off. “Have you heard anything from Evie?” 

Mal’s stomach dipped some. “You mean since I told her off to the point of tears? Nope.” 

“She's gay.” Jay had been telling her that a lot, as if it helped. 

“Yeah, I got that,” the purple-haired girl retorted, draining the rest of her cup. “Doesn't do me much good if she's refusing to accept it, now does it?” 

“She’ll come around.” Jay gave her a look. “All it takes is one tiny crack and that mask will come crumbling down.” 

“Maybe not, Jay.” Mal shook her head, remembering those painfully straight shoulders and tight lips that Evie had borne. “Some people just… become what they need to survive - are you packing a _backpack?”_

The boy looked up, chuckling. “Carlos wants to help me with some schoolwork.” 

“You dropped out three years ago.” 

“Yeah.” That didn't seem to bother Jay as he shoved more shitty, half-bound, secondhand textbooks - which Mal personally thought they should’ve sold ages ago - into his bag. 

“You're creeping me out these days.” She didn't really mean it, though. She liked seeing Jay smile, especially after all the nights they'd sat under broken bridges together in the pouring rain. They’d come a long way since those days. “Why does schoolwork matter for us now anyway?” 

“I dunno, but Mal, I'm gonna do whatever the hell makes that kid smile.” Snatching the keys off the counter, he grinned. “And I'm taking the car.” 

“No fucking fair.” But it was. He'd called it first, fair and square. 

“See ya later, Dragon,” the fucker called as he swung out the door.

 Left alone in the apartment, she listened; there was the banging from their neighbor upstairs who walked like a godforsaken mammoth; the monstrous rattle of a train as it screamed down the tracks outside their window; the honking and sirens on the street. No wonder Evie had been pretty much disgusted when she'd stepped foot in here. To Mal, it was home, but to Evie? Whose driveway had perfect rose bushes up the sides? It was a cesspool. 

A sudden knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and she rolled her eyes. “Jay, what did you forget?” 

There was a pause, during which Mal’s hand crept towards the knife on the counter, before a familiar voice called softly, “it's not Jay.” 

She recognized that voice, one she was positive she'd never hear again, and sure enough, when she opened the door, there stood Evie in all her shining glory. 

Except she didn't look glorious or even much like a princess anymore. Her hair was tangled, makeup was streaked across her face in scraggly, blurry lines, but the most prominent thing about her was the red, hopeless eyes that couldn't seem to bring themselves to meet Mal’s. 

“Holy shit,” Mal breathed. “What happened to you?” 

* * *

 

**~J~**

 

“I was worried you weren't gonna come out,” Jay laughed as Carlos climbed into the front seat. He’d been fifteen minutes late that morning. “I looked like a creep just lurking outside your house like that.” 

“Mom was in a mood.” Carlos held up his thin wrist; there was still the angry, red ghost of fingers closing around the bone. “Overcast days make her even crazier, imagine that.” He glanced up at the grey sky and frowned. “If it rains, I’ll have to wash her car all over again.” 

“I fucking hate that woman,” Jay growled as he started the engine, determined to get Carlos as far as possible from the asshat who had somehow managed to not kill her son yet. 

“You and me both.” Carlos’ shudder didn’t go unnoticed by Jay. “So where are we headed today?” 

Smiling, Jay kept his gaze straight ahead. “Someplace you’ll like.” 

“And that is?” 

“It’s a surprise.” 

A few minutes later, Carlos’ eyes were wide as he stared out the window at the old brick building Jay had parked in front of. “The library?” 

“What, don’t tell me you’ve never been?” Jay was smiling smugly, his arms folded across his chest as he turned the engine off. 

“No, I have - it’s just -” Carlos shook his head. “Not as much as I’d like. I told you before - I don’t get out much.” His fingers ghosted over the red on his wrist and tugged on his sleeves in a vain attempt to pull it down more. 

“I got a sweatshirt in the backseat you can wear if you want,” Jay said in a low voice, noticing the way Carlos was pulling on his sleeves. “It’ll cover your wrists and your hands.” 

“Nah, it’s alright.” The white-haired boy didn’t sound too convinced, and he glanced over his shoulder at the sweatshirt anyway. 

“Come on.” Jay reached back and handed it up to him. “Think of it as payment. For tutoring me.” 

At that, Carlos agreed, and Jay smiled again. He’d figured out the pattern with this kid - or one of them anyway. Carlos didn’t like handouts, and Jay could hardly blame him. He knew that feeling - the gross one that came with charity.

_Good to know._

The sweatshirt looked cute on him anyway, too big in the sleeves and the body, the words on the front long faded. Jay swore Carlos got cuter every second he got to know him. 

The quiet of the library made Jay’s skin itch a little, but Carlos’ shoulders relaxed visibly which made it worth the discomfort. The boys chose a table in the back, near a window, and Carlos began pulling out some of Jay’s books, examining them. He didn’t comment on their run-down appearance at all. 

“Okay, let’s just start with the basics, alright? Just so I can see what you know.” 

Jay nodded, fidgeting with one of the rings he wore on his finger. “I - uh - stopped school in about halfway through sophomore year, so…” 

“Did you go to one of the public schools around here?” 

“Uh.” The ring spun around and around on his finger as he twisted it. “No, not exactly.” 

Carlos didn’t ask anymore questions for awhile, simply opened up one of the math books and began to prepare some practice problems. As Jay waited, he tried to figure out what could possibly be going through the other boy’s mind. For someone so smart, would he be weirded out by someone who hadn’t been to school since he was fifteen? But after a few moments, Carlos had selected a few practice  problems in the geometry section and smiled at him. 

“Try these, alright?” 

Jay couldn’t help grinning a little. Every time he expected the kid to finally judge him, Carlos just kept plowing forward, showing no signs of disgust. So he glanced at the first few, reading the instructions and letting Carlos correct him gently when necessary. 

“Like this?” 

“Almost. Cosine is a little bit different than sine, so the graph won’t look exactly the same,” Carlos explained patiently, drawing a neat example. “See?” 

“Do you still go to school?” Jay could tell that Carlos loved this kind of stuff - he could see the way his eyes lit up. 

“I graduated early.” Carlos wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I - I want to go to college, but my mom…” 

Jay was about to respond, but felt his body tense suddenly. He sensed the man before he saw him, still dressed in his blue uniform. The cop was conversing in low tones with the librarian up at the desk in the front, and Jay’s mind latched on to two possibilities: he could stay here, with his back turned and wait it out or get out of there. Both dangerous, both ill-advised. 

“Jay?” Carlos had noticed his sudden distraction now, but if he actually expected Jay to answer, he wasn’t going to get one at the moment. Jay quickly ducked behind a book shelf. Shielded now, he took a few quick, quiet steps and reached the bathrooms, ducking into the girls’ single stall and locking the door. Better to be safe than unlucky.

* * *

**~C~**

 

Carlos had expected to sit in the library for a few hours with Jay, studying and talking quietly. They’d done quite a bit of talking lately, and he still felt like he’d only grazed the surface of Jay’s life. 

What he _hadn’t_ expected was Jay hiding as soon as the cops showed up and silently slipping into the girl’s bathroom. 

“Would all the people who parked along the far left side of the parking lot come with us to move their cars?” the librarian was saying, her reedy little voice only getting people’s attention because they were in a _library_. “The office building next door is having a little outdoor fundraiser and needs all the cars cleared.” 

“Shit,” Carlos muttered, looking around for Jay. They had parked on the left side. A quick glance towards the bathrooms told him that the other boy wouldn’t be emerging anytime soon. The keys, though… he’d left the keys in his bag. 

“I - I think I parked there,” Carlos found himself saying, starting to slide the books back into Jay’s backpack. “I can go move it really fast.” 

The cop gave him an apologetic smile and the librarian - who he’d had extensive conversations with the past couple of times he’d visited - gave him a pat on the shoulder. He hoped the flinch wasn’t obvious. 

“I didn’t know you had a car,” she said as they walked out of the building. 

“Yeah, only got it recently,” he lied right through his teeth. 

“Didn’t you come in with someone?” 

Someone who was now hiding in the girl’s bathroom, yes. “Not exactly. Just talking to an old classmate on the way in.” 

Carlos moved the car to an empty parking spot. He was thanked by both adults, but the rarity of that approval was overshadowed by Jay’s behavior. 

_Only guilty people run from cops._

What the hell Jay was hiding?

And even though he desperately wanted - needed - to know what was really going on, confrontation was not his thing. What he should do was walk right out of the library, go home, and delete Jay’s number from his phone. That would be the safe thing to do. The smart thing to do. But then he might never know what Jay had been thinking, what had really happened, and if Carlos hated confrontation, he _really_ hated not knowing things. And too, if he left now, he might lose the only friend he’d ever had. So after several moments of debilitating nerves, Carlos finally walked to the back of the library and cracked open the bathroom door. He had nothing to lose at this point. 

“Jay…” Carlos looked around carefully, praying no one else would see him. “Jay, it’s me. They… they’re gone.” 

The taller teen slipped out of the bathroom, his smile glued back into its usual place. “Thanks, man, sorry about that.” 

But Carlos wasn’t going to return the smile until he got a bit more information. “What do they want you for?” 

Jay rubbed the back of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing just a bit. “Come outside, and I’ll explain it to you.” 

“Is this like a kidnapping scheme?” 

The dark-haired boy looked surprised, his eyebrows raising. “No, it’s nothing like that. I - it’s about Mal and me. And why we’re on our own.” 

 _What the hell,_ Carlos figured finally. _Even if he does kidnap me, I won’t have to go back to Mom, so win - win._

Carlos finally agreed to follow Jay out the (back) exit and to his car. He halfway waited for Jay to take off or shove him in the trunk, but the former didn’t even start the engine. A drizzle had started and for a few moments, the only sound in the car was the raindrops drumming on the roof. 

After awhile, Jay cleared his throat. “Me and Mal ran away at fifteen.” 

Nodding, Carlos watched his face carefully. “And that’s why the cops are after you?”

“No. They’re not after me. Or her. I just don’t like them. I don’t trust them.” Jay stared out at the rain, like he was lost in the past. “But Carlos, if I tell you the whole story, I need something of yours as leverage.” 

“Why?” 

“Because if you ever go snitching on us, our lives are over.” Jay held up his hand, as if already anticipating Carlos’ protests. “It’s just precautionary, dude. I need something to, well... deter you from getting cold feet.” 

“Calling the cops on my mom.” It was out of Carlos’ mouth before he could stop it. 

“The system scares you that badly?” 

“No…” Carlos took a deep breath. If Jay was gonna spill his secrets, he had some he could let out, too. “She’ll kill me. Before I ever have the chance to get out of there. She’ll fucking kill me, she swears to it. Used to whisper it in my ear before I’d go to bed. Sometimes I still wake up to chills and wonder if she’s been talking to me while I sleep. I know that wherever I go, whatever house I get transferred to, it won’t matter. She’ll find me. However tight they try to lock her ass up, however far they move me, it won’t stop her. And with my anxiety… I’ll go crazy like her, just from being paranoid.” 

The answer clearly surprised Jay, and he seemed almost unsure for a moment. “She’s… she’s a monster, Carlos.”

“Yeah.” 

“Well… it’s fine leverage… I just… really hate to know you’re stuck with her.”

“I’d rather be stuck with her, where I have my escape routes and bearings and can pretty much predict her moods these days than know she’s coming after me at any time.”

That at least seemed to resonate with Jay, who finally nodded. “Alright, I won’t report your mom, and you don’t report me and Mal. Got it?” He took a sharp inhale, then began the rest of his story. “See, we were just kids when we left home. We had no money, no food, the clothes on our backs, and we never stayed in one place for more than a night. At some point, the police were notified that we hadn’t come to school in a few weeks, and no one had seen us. They were just looking for two runaways until we started stealing. We tried to stay legal, we really did. But we got hungry and cold and… desperate.” 

It was starting to make sense. Carlos tried to picture Mal and Jay back then, alone and determined to make it in the world. “You must’ve been good to get this far.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Jay let out a soft laugh. “Never been caught, and I hope to keep it that way.” 

Carlos sucked in a breath, looking around. “Knock on wood.” 

“What?” 

“Knock on wood!” Carlos repeated anxiously. “Don’t jinx yourself, Jay, please, just do it.”  

“It’s okay, Carlos.” If anything, the older boy looked amused. “I’m not superstitious.” 

But Carlos was, and he hunted around for some sort of wood, his heart racing. He couldn’t let Jay jinx himself, not when he could stop it. He finally knocked on the panel by the glove box, hoping the fake wood would fool whatever forces kept up on the whole jinxing business. Jay just watched, staring for a moment, before shrugging. 

“Any more questions? I’ll try and answer them.” 

“A few.” Carlos had a few more than a few, but he figured Jay wouldn't mind.  “Is Jay even your real name?” 

“Partly.” The other boy gave him a rueful smile. “Not my full name, if that’s what you mean. Or hers. Mal and I swore an oath one of those days when it all seemed like a daring adventure to let those names die.” 

“You really think the cops would recognize you? I mean… when was the last time your picture was published in a paper?” 

“Oh, a long time ago, and it was just an old school photo.” Dragging a hand through his long hair, Jay sighed heavily. “Shit, we’re not on a wanted list or anything. I just avoid cops, mostly. Just in case. Why do you think we stick to the bad side of town?” 

“Because rent is cheaper than gas?” 

“I wish,” the dark-haired boy chuckled. “Nah, people here don't usually ask for ID. Everyone just kinda… minds their own business.”  

“Shouldn’t you guys wear disguises? Or masks?” Carlos scrunched up his nose. “You’re criminals. Don’t they have masks and secret identities or whatever?” 

“You’re thinking of superheroes, 'Los.” Jay laughed. “I guess you could call our hair and names ‘masks’. But they weren't really supposed to be hiding us from the law or anything. It was all just apart of the game. Our game. To make it all seem more exciting.” 

“So, your parents were as bad as my mom?”

Carlos noticed the clenching of Jay’s jaw even before he spoke and realized he’d touched a nerve. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the other boy waved him off. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. We were both in bad situations, so yeah, kinda like you.” 

“And you left.” There was a note of awe in Carlos’ voice; he had almost more respect for Jay now. “I… don’t think I’d ever be that brave.” 

“Maybe someday you will.” Jay smiled softly now, and Carlos was once again struck at the familiar look in his eyes. He’d made the best of the worst. Carefully, slowly, Carlos reached out and laid his hand gently on Jay’s arm, feeling both of them tense. For half a second, they stared at each other. 

“You’re like everything I wanna be,” he admitted finally. “Strong, taking on the world, striking out on your own.”  

“But I _didn’t_ do it on my own, Carlos.” Jay flipped open his wallet and slid out a picture hidden in the back fold. It was him and Mal, but both were definitely a little younger. Her ears were still a little purple from a recent dye, and his hair barely reached his shoulders. “If you want, we’ll get you out of your house. You can come with us. You won’t have to be on your own ever again.” 

“Maybe,” Carlos breathed. It was scary; it was terrifying; it was an idea he’d only pondered in the deepest, darkest part of his mind where, even then, he was still looking over his shoulder. “Maybe I’ll do it. You’d lose your leverage, though.” 

“Yeah.” Jay’s lips curled in half a smile. “But then I wouldn’t need it. You’d be one of us.” 

* * *

 

**~E~**

 

Evie’s life had gone from bad to worse in a matter of hours. 

 _It was just a date,_ she’d told herself a hundred times. _Just a date, how did it go so wrong?_

The night had started like it always did: five hours prior with her mom telling her all the ways she didn't look ready and pointing out all the dresses she’d gained too much weight to wear. None of that was out of the ordinary. In fact, she would go so far as to say it was everyday - normal. And yet, as Evie stood outside that dented door she swore she’d never see again, it seemed almost laughable that she’d acted so high and mighty the last time she’d stalked across the threshold. 

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” Mal sounded just as shocked as she’d expected her to. 

What _had_ happened? The question would’ve made her laugh if she wasn’t choking back tears. 

“Princess?” 

“I’m not,” Evie finally got out, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m not a… a princess… I’m a mess… Mal, I’m a mess.” 

After a moment, Mal moved over some, clearing a path into the apartment. She didn’t say anything as Evie walked defeatedly inside, collapsing at the table and crumbling, hiding her face in her hands. She could feel Mal staring at her, the way those green eyes must be studying her, but not like Chad studied her, never liked those eyes of her damn boyfriend that followed her breasts past her shirt and seemed to see right past her skirt. Several minutes later, she heard the screech of a chair and realized Mal had sat down next to her. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything else,” the purple-haired girl said, her voice low and void of emotion. “But answer this one, very important question: do you need medical attention?” 

But Evie couldn’t seem to draw a deep enough breath to answer and the panic at having her lungs restricted bled into the rest of her brain. 

“Take a deep breath.” Mal’s voice sounded far, far away, much too far for Evie to really listen, but she really wanted oxygen and wondered vaguely if Mal had some for her. “Evie, you can do this. Just one breath.” 

And finally, she gasped, taking in a gulp of air, before taking another. 

“Follow my breaths, alright?” 

Slowly, Evie’s lungs stopped burning and her throat opened up. She hoped Mal wouldn’t ask anymore questions, but it wasn’t the case. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” 

It just triggered another round of sobs and Evie was horrified to find her throat closing again. “No, _no, no, stay open.”_

“Shh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just count to ten, okay? Just count.” 

And it was all Evie could do to remember the numbers she’d learned since she was five years old. Several minutes later, when she peeked out through her fingers, she saw a glass of water and a piece of toast sitting in front of her, Mal not far away. 

“I can’t.” She couldn't eat. Not when her mother worked so hard to make her look good and when she still hadn’t been good enough. Not when she was a sick, fat whore who - 

“I won’t force you.” The purple-haired girl shook her head and sighed heavily. “But I’m only asking for one sip and one bite. You can do that for me, can’t you? Just one?” 

Those eyes, those pretty green eyes, Evie wanted to do things for them. So, with a shaking hand, she drew the plate and cup slowly towards herself. She barely managed a sip of water and the toast nearly didn’t make it past her lips, but she swallowed hard and looked up at Mal for more directions. 

“Alright, Princess.” Mal sat down again, watching her steadily. “Now do you wanna tell me what happened? Or do you want to cry some more? Both are fine.” 

Evie  wanted to fall through the center of the earth. Or at least never look in the mirror again. She could live in the woods and become an old - 

“Hey, hey,” Mal’s voice interrupted. “Shit, you don’t have to talk. I’m not gonna force you. Just… I’ll be around if you need anything.” She started to get up. 

“I didn’t say no.” Evie’s voice was barely above a whisper, thin and cracked, but slower now. Mal sat back down, raising an eyebrow, which didn’t do anything to help Evie’s racing heart. “I didn’t - I _couldn’t_ . I -  I didn't wanna have - _that_ \- with him.” The tears were back, overtaking her words now until they melted into a puddle of indispensable gasps again. “But I did. I said yes. I said I wanted it. And I wish - I wish I hadn't. I don't like him. I don't love him.” 

There was a new emotion in those eyes now, the ones staring at her. “Oh,” was all Mal said. “Oh, okay, hey Princess? Do you wanna go take a shower?” 

Evie nodded, suddenly desperate for warm water. She wanted to wash last night away. Mal gently took her hand and led her to the bathroom. 

“The water is either cold or really hot,” Mal sighed. “Jay’s better at getting it warm, but I’ll do my best.” 

Avoiding her reflection in the mirror, Evie watched Mal move around in the shower, adjusting the knob and occasionally hitting it until she turned around triumphantly. “Alright, I’ll let you shower. Come out when you’re finished, okay? Take as much time as you need. Here… I’ll get you a new soap.” 

By the time Mal left the bathroom, Evie was able to breathe a little better. Maybe it was because of the steam that so nicely swirled through the bathroom, enveloping her like a hug. The water was nice, too. A week ago, she would’ve never, _ever_ set foot in this bathroom, not if her life depended on it. She would’ve turned up her nose, made snarky little comments, and left without a backward glance. How ironic that, this morning, it was the place saving her ass from a total meltdown.

In truth, Evie wasn’t totally sure how she’d ended up on Mal’s front steps. She couldn’t have possibly faced her mother this morning, not like this, but the time between waking up in Chad’s bed and ending up in front of Mal’s door was foggy and blocked. 

Had she taken a taxi? Could she have actually managed to walk over here? Evie blamed the memory blank on the drinks. Her boyfriend liked to make them way too strong and she’d had way too many for someone who never drank anything but a sip of expensive champagne here and there. 

_You’re a slut, Genevieve. A slut. Nothing but a worthless, whorish, man-chasing little slut._

The voice in her head sounded strangely like her mother if she listened carefully. Vaguely, Evie wondered how the woman had gotten up there. 

Her mind wandered as she stood there, the booze and the perfume from last night still coloring her nostrils. She thought about what he’d done, what she’d done, what they’d both done. What she’d agreed to do. 

_What a fucking slut._

Evie couldn’t think about it too long, either, much less say it out loud without wanting to pass out or die. Probably die. She scrubbed her legs, her face, her body with the soap, as if she could wash every awful memory down the drain, too. Turning into the spray, Evie let it rain down on her face. It washed away the tear tracks, but even the warmest water couldn’t dislodge the rock of regret in her chest. 

_You agreed, Genevieve. You said yes. You begged for it. And now you’re just like every other little bitch in this town._

“I didn’t want to,” she whispered, her voice hardly audible over the spitting of the shower.  “I didn’t want to.” 

_But you did._

Evie figured she might just stay in the shower forever, but eventually, the water ran cold, and she was forced to shut it off. She had no idea how much time had passed, but Mal hadn’t banged on the door so she figured it hadn’t been too long. As Evie moved, her body felt slow and achy; now, she really just wanted to sleep. The cool air rushed at her the moment she opened the bathroom door, and she gulped down air, trying to get past the fog in her mind. Mal was sitting at the table, leafing through a stack of old newspapers. At the sound of the door, she glanced up. 

“Oh, clothes,” she remembered as soon as she saw Evie wrapped tightly in the towel. “Here, uh, take these. I’ll turn around.”

And finally, Evie understood why Carlos had said Jay’s clothes had smelled nice that first day he’d worn them. Mal’s clothes did, too - nice and familiar and comforting. They weren’t fancy; they weren’t tight or revealing - nothing she would’ve touched a day ago - but at that moment, the washed-out t-shirt and too-short sweatpants were exactly what she wanted. Adjusting them carefully, she rubbed her eyes a little and stifled a yawn.

“Can I look?” 

Christ, she’d even forgotten Mal was there. 

“Yeah.” 

“Hey, you wanna take a nap or something?” 

The tears were threatening to make a reappearance. Mal was being so _nice,_ even after she’d treated the purple-haired girl like shit. “Why are you doing this?” 

“Doing what?” Mal looked genuinely confused, which just made Evie feel even worse somehow. Did Mal not realize how extremely accommodating she was being? Was she not expecting anything in return? 

“This.” Evie gestured around the room. “Inviting me in, the clothes, the food, the shower, _why_?” 

“I told you before.” Mal turned and began setting up the bed, fluffing the pillows. “The world is shitty. And I also told you I was willing to try again with you once you stopped trying to fool yourself that you’re special. And it seems you’ve hit rock bottom, baby girl.” 

And as the brunette lay down on the bed, her eyes already fluttering shut, she couldn’t help sniffing again.  

“You’re gonna be okay.” Mal said it with quiet determination, as if she knew. And maybe she did, Evie realized. She’d been living in the face of reality for a long time now. “You’re gonna be alright, Evie. I know it.” 

Right before Evie drifted off, she thought she heard the door open. Through half-open eyes, she saw Jay and Carlos come inside, heard them question about her, heard Mal explaining in quiet tones, before they all sat at the table. 

The regret still burned deep, but there was a tiny voice in the back of her mind that wondered whether these people were gonna become her friends. 

_You’re a stupid, whoring, slutty little brat. But maybe they don’t care._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thank you guys so much for keeping up with this story! it means the world to me.


	5. Math and Makeovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi all. 
> 
> so, as many of you are probably aware, cameron boyce passed away last week. it's been rough. his death feels both so real and unreal at the same time and with something like death, it's very easy to spiral into thinking about all the things he never got to accomplish. i understand if reading about carlos is so heavy or too hard right now - that's why i held off posting this chapter for so long. however, i've decided that i am going to continue this story and future stories with carlos de vil simply because cameron put his heart and soul into these characters. it's an honor to be able to carry on his legacy by writing the freckled son of cruella de vil. 
> 
> also, for those of you who are able to donate, his family has created a foundation in his name. please check out the Cameron Boyce Foundation if you have a moment. his light shines from all angles through there. take care of yourselves. hold each other close. tell someone you love them. that's all.

**~M~**

 

And then there were four. 

It was simple math, really. Two runaways plus two more troubled teens equated to four sort-of-broken, angry outcasts. And two mornings after Evie showed up on her doorstep, those calculations finally clicked for Mal. 

She woke up early, like always, and stared around the room. Her back was stiff from sleeping on the floor, but when she glanced up at her bed and saw Evie fast asleep - her curls spread out messily on the pillow - she couldn’t even be grumpy about that. Sunlight caught dust particles as the beams floated lazily through the air, the light streaming in through the cracks in the blinds. Everything in the apartment, from the worn leather on the chairs to the stained countertop looked warmer, softer, and somehow more luxurious than it did in full daylight, what with the early morning glow and all. Glancing across the room, she saw Carlos and Jay asleep in his bed, carefully noting that the former had willingly put his arm around Jay last night. She took that as a good sign, that he was finally trusting someone else’s touch, even if it was bound to be a long process. He hadn’t slept at Hell Hall the entire week - mumbling something about his mother being out of town - and even Evie had only returned to her house a few times to assure her mother she was only out with her boyfriend. Mal figured she and Jay should just give them both keys to their place and call it a day. 

“Holy shit,” Mal whispered as it all sunk in. She had four members of her squad now. That’s how she and Jay had teamed up after all, crashing at each other’s places for comfort and safety until they just… never left. “Jay? Jay!” she hissed quietly, as so not to wake the others. “Wake up, dumbass.” 

His eyes flew open, and if his arm hadn’t been pinned underneath Carlos’ body, he would’ve lashed out at the unseen force. “Was’ wrong? Who’s here?” 

“No one, no one, it’s all good,” Mal assured him. “I just realized something.” 

“You woke me up because of your thoughts?” Jay looked less than thrilled, although his face softened when he saw how close Carlos was. The corners of his mouth tugged slightly, like they were trying to curve up into a smile.

“You don’t understand,” Mal said quietly. “We have four now.” 

He looked confused for half a second, his brain still sluggish with sleep. “Four what?” 

“People, Jay.” Mal flicked her eyes toward the sleeping figures of Evie and Carlos. 

“Oh.” Jay looked like he was stifling another yawn. “Yeah, I knew that. Carlos, at least. The other day I offered to help get him away from that bitch.” 

He meant Carlos’ mother, Mal knew. “That bitch” was how both the boys had started referring to her lately.

“Did he agree?” The purple-haired girl tried not to be a little disappointed that she hadn’t heard about this before. Jay used to tell her everything. 

He must’ve seen the look in her eyes because Jay slowly untangled himself from Carlos, sliding down to the floor to wrap his arms around her shoulders in a rare moment of affection. “Hey, oh God, don’t think he’s replacing you. You’re two totally different people.” 

She leaned back into his familiar embrace, nodding. “Alright. I’m not jealous or anything.” 

“Just making sure.” He gave her a little squeeze. Even though she hated to admit it, she’d missed him. “You can have my bed tomorrow night, if you want. Carlos and I can sleep on the floor.”

“It’s chill, I'm not making the kid sleep on the floor.” She gave him a smile. “And I think Evie needs the bed more than I do right now.” 

The brunette hadn't said anything else about her sexual escapades since the morning she'd arrived on the doorstep, and Mal wasn't gonna rush anything out of her. Maybe someday she'd be ready to start getting stuff off her chest, but until then, Mal would let her have the bed any day just so long as it kept her from running back to her ex and getting hurt all over again. If Evie hadn’t strictly forbidden it, Mal would’ve put a baseball bat through the guy’s front windshield already. 

Someday turned out to be in an hour. As the four gathered around the table for pancakes (which Carlos proved to be pretty good at making on a budget), the dark-haired girl cleared her throat. 

“Hey... uh, I wanted to talk to you guys.” 

Three pairs of eyes glanced up from their food to meet hers.

“What’s up?” Jay asked, trying to coax the last few drops of syrup out of the bottle. 

“I wanted to apologize.” Evie’s cheeks were flushed. “I - was super bitchy and then I just came back a total mess. Mal, you took me in and comforted me, and I just wanted to say that I should never have -” 

“It’s okay, Princess.” Mal felt a little uncomfortable suddenly. Apologies just made her skin crawl. “I get it. You made a mistake. You don’t have to -”

“I know. But that’s not all I want to talk about.” 

“Oh?” Mal wasn’t sure what else there was to talk about, other than further details from That Night (and she was starting to wonder whether she even wanted to hear those at all). 

“I kinda need to thank you for yelling at me when we first met,” Evie continued, much to Mal’s surprise. 

“I didn’t yell!” 

Evie rolled her eyes. “Fine, your very scary lecture then! When Chad was… you know…” 

“Fucking you,” Jay added bluntly, earning  a snigger from Carlos. 

“Yes.” The brunette blinked quickly and Mal shot Jay a look to shut him up. “All I could think about was Mal. And what she told me. About trying to fake my way in the world. And I thought about Carlos… and how happy he seems with you, Jay.” 

At that, Carlos turned bright red, glancing up at Jay, who pulled a face.

“You thought about him during sex, Evie?” Jay laughed. “He's the luckiest gay guy in the world.” 

Evie cleared her throat and looked down a little. Mal decided a change of subject was needed before Jay graduated to being a completely insensitive asshole. 

“Wait, are you idiots actually together, yet?” she interrupted, staring at the two boys who were now busy kicking each other under the table and laughing. She’d just assumed they were, but now, she wondered if they'd made it official or not. Jay usually bypassed the whole “getting to know a guy” stuff and went straight to hooking up, but Mal was pretty sure he and Carlos hadn’t done anything. She hadn’t even seen the two so much as kiss. 

“Let me finish!” Evie cried, but not aggressively. “I just have a little more, I promise, then we can discuss their love life. Boys! Stop kicking each other!” Once she was satisfied that the others were thoroughly paying attention, she began again. “As I was saying, I thought about how happy Carlos seems, and how willing you guys were to welcome me in even though you both have next to nothing… and -”

“You’re doing too much thinking for a fuck session,” Jay commented, trying to steal a strawberry off Carlos’ plate and only getting a slap to the hand for his efforts. 

“Princess, I get it.” Mal shook her head. “I could see that pretend prom queen bitch the second I met you. Trust me, I’m pretty good at seeing past the fake.”

“I never thought I could be anything but that,” Evie laughed. “God, I’ve been ‘Mommy’s Little Girl’ for years.” 

“Now you’re ‘Mommy’s Little Disappointment’,” Carlos shrugged, looking over at her. “Welcome to the club, we’ve got pancakes.” Jay almost choked on his breakfast, giving Carlos a high-five. 

“Thanks, Carlos.” And although there was a hint of sadness in Evie’s brown eyes, Mal also noticed the small spark of hope there. “I belong here. Not out there.” 

Jay got up to rummage around in the fridge, probably looking for more syrup. “Dammit, Mal, we’re out of everything.” 

“Well, we should still have some cash to last us the week, right?” Mal had checked their funds a few days ago, and they’d been okay. 

“Yeah, but then I had to pay ‘Los the rest of what I owed him.” Jay gave the smaller boy a smile. “You know, for your car?” 

“Oh, you mean the one _you_ smashed up?” Mal retorted hotly. “Yeah, I think I fucking remember that. Does that mean you cleaned out Goldilocks?” 

“Quite possibly.” Jay had the sense to look apologetic. When Carlos looked at him questioningly, he clarified. “Our safe. We named our safe ‘Goldilocks’. Don’t ask. Mal, you can check, if you want. There might be a couple of twenties left.” 

Sighing heavily, Mal flipped him off. She didn’t want to check again: the safe’s lock was a finicky pain in the ass. “It doesn't really matter. We still have to make the rounds either way. And it’s on you this time because _you_ crashed the thing, not me.” 

“Rounds?” Evie had been watching their exchange with confusion, but unlike last time, Mal didn’t hear any judgment lacing her words.

Mal quickly looked up at Jay, trying to read his expression. No doubt he’d already explained some of it to Carlos, but Evie was still very much in the dark.

“We gotta tell her, Dragon.” Jay shook his head. “If they’re gonna be, you know, apart of this, they can’t go in blind. We need to lay it all out for them.” 

“Not without leverage,” Mal replied instantly. 

For some reason, Carlos laughed. “Geez, you and Jay really are like siblings.” 

“Why?” Mal asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did he already ask you for leverage or something?” 

“Yup.” The white-haired boy chewed another bite of pancake. “And then promptly threw it out the window.” 

Jay chuckled, smiling over at Carlos, and Mal was once again surprised to see how _happy_ they both looked. It was a weird emotion to see on Jay’s face.  “Alright, alright, fine, no leverage needed for now.” She held up her hands. “And now that Evie has sufficiently apologized, can we get confirmation that you two dumbasses are boyfriends?” 

“Not until you tell me what ‘rounds’ are!” Evie folded her arms and gave her best glare (which Mal found pretty hot, actually). 

“Rounds are what we like to call our, uh, breadwinning talents,” Mal conceded at last. She actually wasn’t quite sure why she’d given in so easily, and without any leverage, too. It was entirely unlike her. 

_Fuck pretty girls. They really do make you do crazy shit._

She wouldn’t explain any further, Mal decided. She would just leave it at that. Really, she’d only known Evie for a couple of days and the girl was still - 

“They pickpocket people, Evie,” Carlos said casually, finishing off his pancakes. “Only the cash, nothing else. Actually, they pickpocket cars, too. Do you still call it pickpocketing? Car-pocketing? Anyway, they steal a whole bunch of cash from people.” 

Damn, Jay must’ve been filling the kid in on much more information than Mal had thought. She, on the other hand, had mentioned nothing of that to Evie and now that the cat was out of the bag, she half expected the girl to run again. But Evie just looked mildly curious, if that. 

_Fuck. Who is this girl?_

Fine, if Jay wanted to bear all to Carlos, she could play the same game. It seemed to be working for him, anyway. Mal walked over and opened up a cabinet , finally pulling out a newspaper. Laying it down in front of Evie, she pointed at the top story. “Read.”

* * *

 

**~J~**

 

Jay had read the story in question a hundred times, but that still didn’t stop his fingers from finding his ring under the table and spinning it around and around. He’d already explained a lot of things to Carlos, but this confirmed them. What if he suddenly decided it was too much  or too weird? What if it all became too real, too insane for him to stick around? He could walk out that door, and Jay would never get a chance to see him laugh again or pry the kid’s full name out of him or even taste those lips he was dying to try. But after sneaking a sideways glance at the freckled boy, Jay couldn’t find anything about him that conveyed “gonna bolt”. He was happily finishing his pancakes, licking the syrup off his fingers, and watching Evie scan the front cover rather calmly. 

“Search Party: Police Send Out Countywide Alert After Two Teenagers Are Reported Missing,” Evie narrated slowly, her eyes moving across the page. The paper was dated three years back and from a different town, but her eyes fixed on the pictures quickest of all.  They were obviously old school pictures, and Jay couldn’t help laughing at the expression on Mal’s frozen face on the paper. She looked like she might murder the cameraman at any moment, her eyes narrowed in an all-too-familiar glare. Jay didn’t think his own portrait looked too bad, but then again, he’d always lucked out in the photogenic department. 

“Holy shit,” Carlos laughed suddenly, staring from Jay to the short-haired kid on the cover. “That’s you?” 

“Yeah, handsome as ever,” Jay grinned. 

“Oh, get over yourself,” Mal huffed, elbowing him. “Besides, I like your hair long much better.”

“You were blonde, Mal?” Evie looked up, surprised, and Jay didn’t blame her. It was still sort of shocking to see the old Mal; she felt like eons ago - a totally different girl. “Why’d you go purple?” 

Pushing the hair in question out of her eyes, the other girl simply shrugged. “Time for a change, I guess.” 

“You know, Princess, if you’re gonna be one of us, you might consider making a change, too.” Jay tried to imagine Evie with brightly colored hair. She had the right face structure and even if her hair was dark now, he knew Mal could get the job done with a little bit of bleach and a trip to the drugstore. 

“ _Purple_ ?” Evie took a lock of her dark curls between her fingers and studied them critically. “Are you suggesting that I dye my hair _purple_? Jay, my mom would freak.” 

“Well, it wouldn’t have to be purple necessarily -” 

“I think you’re missing the most important part here, Hairdressers of the Poor and Luckless,” Mal barked, keeping her finger on the newspaper article. “Evie, I’m spilling my deep dark origin story over here and you and Mr. I-Look-Unnaturally-Great-In-Every-Fucking-School-Photo are talking about hair.” 

“Sorry, Mal.” But Evie’s lips twitched, and Jay was almost positive she was fighting off a smile. He caught sight of Carlos’ face suddenly and noticed that he was grinning, looking especially happy. Jay almost wondered what had him so smiley before it dawned on him: Evie. Evie being apart of the group, getting along with Jay and Mal, and just agreeing to give them a chance made Carlos happy. That alone was cute enough to make the older boy want to kiss him square on the mouth. 

_Not yet, Jay. Almost. Not yet._

“So you both ran away?” Evie confirmed, her eyes drifting back to the news clipping. “Why?” 

“Parents.” 

“A situation.” 

Jay and Mal glanced at each other, and Jay tried to judge the expression on the latter’s face. She buried the past deep - they both had - and for now, he figured it was best to leave it there. 

“And ever since then…   you guys have lived on your own in this apartment. And… swipe free cash to pay the bills?” Evie still sounded like she was trying to make sense of it all, piecing it together out loud like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. 

_And incredibly confusing, angry, somewhat traumatizing jigsaw puzzle._

“You know, Jay, you can use the money you paid me for the car, right?” Carlos spoke up, looking over at him. “I mean, I’ve been crashing here most nights and eating your food and using your supplies. It’s only fair. Besides, the money… it could be both of ours now, all of ours, I guess. If that’s okay.” 

Jay almost protested - he’d made it this far on back-pocket cash and glovebox quarters and could get more without too much hassle. Plus, he reckoned Carlos needed this money quite a bit  - but then the rest of Carlos’ words sank in: 

_Ours. The money could be ours._

It was what Mal had been trying to explain to him this morning; Carlos and Evie weren’t outsiders anymore. Two had become four. “Them” had become a “we”. And it was new, it was a little strange, maybe a bit daunting, but not unpleasant. And when he stared at Carlos’ cute little nose and pink cheeks and bright, golden eyes, Jay nodded. 

“Did - did I say something wrong?” the freckled boy chewed his lip some, and Jay quickly cursed himself. 

“No, no, not - that’s not - I was just - it’s ours, Carlos. You’re right.” 

“Wait, wait, I’m so lost. Does that mean you don’t have to go out and steal?” Evie glanced from Mal to Jay, and although her repulsed sneer was gone, she still looked fairly confused. And Jay didn’t really blame her - it was a lot to take in for a newcomer. 

“At least not right now,” he smirked. “We’ll have to teach you our ways, Princess. You’d make an awful good flirt.” 

Evie let out a laugh, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mal’s eyes widen slightly. He reminded himself to tease her about it later. “Oh, I’m an amazing flirt  - flawless, wonderful,” she boasted. “But what’s that got to do with stealing?” 

“Aw, now,” Jay leaned forward to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, ignoring the way Mal’s expression suddenly darkened. She could make her move once he was done proving his point. “Don’t you see, Princess? With those big beautiful eyes and that full pout… you just blink and laugh and… suddenly…  you’ve got them...” Jay sat back, and when he opened his fist, her necklace and earrings sat glittering in the center. “... in the palm of your hand.” 

This time, Evie’s mouth opened slightly. And then she smiled. “Oh, you are good, aren’t you?” 

Behind them, Mal cleared her throat loudly, a growl hidden underneath. “Okay, Jay, that’s enough. Isn’t the wooing my job?” 

“Not if you don’t do it good enough.”

“Well,” Evie interrupted, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, what?” 

“Well,” she repeated with a small toss of her head that sent her curls bouncing in a way Jay didn’t really think was fair. No one else’s hair bounced like that. “The correct phrase is ‘do it well enough’, not ‘good enough’.” 

Oh, grammar. She was talking about grammar, of all things. No wonder she and Carlos were tight. “If you say so.” 

“And please, Mal,” Evie laughed, shaking her head. “Jay may be cute, but… he’s not my type.” She laughed again, batting her eyelashes at him, and Jay couldn’t help whistling some. 

 _She’s gonna make a fine thief,_ he couldn’t help thinking. The idea grew on him with every passing second. He could teach her, instruct her, maybe instruct Carlos, too. They’d be unstoppable. 

 _We’d have the best crime ring in the city._ _He’s agile, she’s mesmerizing. The city’s pockets wouldn’t know what hit them._

“What are you thinking?” Carlos stared up at Jay, his eyes full of questions and excitement and if he wasn’t mistaken, a spot of hope. 

“You and Evie…” the dark-haired boy answered slowly, letting the thoughts form slowly on his tongue. “If you’re gonna be one of us, you’re both gonna need new looks.”

“Excuse me?” Carlos paused for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed as he carefully reached up to touch his curls. “Jay, I like my hair. It’s already bleached.” 

And Jay had to admit, he really did adore Carlos’ two-toned color. It was cute; it was different; it was even a little bit hot. It reminded him of the day they’d met, when the curls had practically created a halo in the sunlight. 

“I like the color, too.” Jay chewed his lip for a moment, thinking. He didn’t really want to dye the curls or do anything to them, really. But some sort of change was a must. He and Mal had discovered something interesting after switching up their looks: it made them bolder. It made them _feel_ different. 

“I really don’t need to change anything,” Carlos protested, looking a little worried. He automatically turned in his chair to face the mirror hanging on the wall, staring at himself critically in the half -foggy glass. “Seriously. I don’t think it’s necessary.” 

Seeing the way Carlos stared at himself, like he didn’t quite like what he saw, helped Jay make up his mind. “No. You definitely need a change. And I think I’ve got something that doesn’t involve messing with the color one bit.” 

* * *

 

 

**~C~**

 

Carlos never had time to worry about his appearance. 

The only colors he’d had to think about until this morning were the purple and yellows of his bruises or the reds of his cuts. His hair hadn’t needed much attention, which was good because he didn’t really have the time to give it any. And now, Jay wanted him to, what? Change his style? Cut it? Grow it out? 

“Straighten it.” 

Carlos choked a little. “What?” Jay wanted him to straighten his hair? He straightened his mother’s hair all the time, but had never considered doing his own.  He liked his curls, and if he wasn’t mistaken, so did Jay. 

“Oh!” Evie gasped, her hands flying as she spoke. “Oh, Carlos, oh my gosh, he’s got a great point! I can totally see it! You’d look so handsome! And grown up!” 

“Isn’t that a little ironic?” Mal crossed her arms some, one eyebrow raising just a hair. “ _Straightening_ the gay boy’s hair?” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Jay told her good-naturedly. “‘Los?” He raised his hand a little, motioning to Carlos’ head. Carlos knew exactly what he wanted to do, and he gave him a little smile, nodding. Almost immediately, he felt Jay’s hands ruffling his hair, rubbing across his scalp gently. It felt nice, and the freckled boy couldn’t help blushing a little. It was comforting that Jay asked before touching, even though Carlos rarely turned him down anymore. The scarier part was that Carlos started initiating some of the contact, usually in his sleep. Just that morning, he’d opened his eyes to find himself cuddled against Jay, and - even scarier - he hadn’t even minded. 

 _Touch is dangerous, Carlos,_ he tried to remind himself. _Good touches lead to bad touches._

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but enjoy the little shoulder rubs and hair ruffles and sideways hugs. Jay had something magnetic about him. Maybe it was the warmth that sparked off his hands and skin or maybe it was the way he always smelled faintly of spices, but one thing was very, very clear: Jay was going to be something for Carlos. He just didn’t know what that something would turn out to be just yet. 

“Hey.” 

Looking up, Carlos saw Jay studying his face. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I just -” 

“I know.” The older boy’s tone stayed serious for just a moment before he cut through the stoic with a wink. “We’ll talk about this soon, okay? Right now, I think Evie is dying to have your hair straightened.” 

“I have a spare straightening iron we could use!” Evie called across the table, jumping up to look in her bag. “I brought it just in case my hair needed taming, and it’s salon quality, so it’ll work on his hair for sure.” 

“You wanna do it, I’d assume?” Jay watched her scamper around the apartment with an amused smile. “Sure you know how, Princess?” Carlos got the feeling Jay was trying to push her buttons.

“Jay.” Evie stopped for a moment to give him a look. “Please. I’ve been straightening my own hair since I could pull a chair up to see the mirror. I’ve got this.” 

“Not so fast.” Mal had been watching the whole exchange in silent contemplation, and now, she got up and examined a strand of Evie’s dark hair. “You didn’t think Jay’s little pup would be the only one getting a makeover now, did you?” 

At the word “makeover”, Evie’s eyes lit up. “Really?” 

“Shh,” Mal shook her head slowly. “Not like the kind you’re used to, baby girl. I’m thinking a little more… colorful.” 

Carlos couldn’t help wondering what wild thoughts must be running through Evie’s mind.  The way Mal called her “baby girl”, the way she smirked so craftily, but mostly the fondness in the purple-haired teen’s voice would’ve surely sent Evie running a week ago. Would today be different? Sure, she’d swallowed the run-down apartment and shitty appliances and even the illegal pickpocket ring up until that point, but she still hadn't given in to Mal’s seduction attempts (although Carlos had to agree with Jay: Mal wasn’t the smoothest flirt). But surprisingly, Evie didn’t run or scoff, she just shook her head with a little laugh. 

“What’s there to laugh about?” Mal asked, narrowing her eyes. “I’m dead serious, you know.” 

“You’re telling me -” Evie’s hand went to her hip, and this time, Carlos had to hold in a laugh. The sass (and sexual tension) between the two girls was undeniable. “ - that _you_ can do _my_ hair? And it won’t end up scaring little children?” 

“They’re either about to lock lips or punch each other,” Jay whispered in his ear.

“I think either would be an issue with these two,” Carlos told him absentmindedly, watching the stare down play out in front of him.

“Why’s that?” 

“Uh…” Shit. Carlos didn’t know how to answer that question. “She’s still, you know… coming to terms with certain… things.” Did he really have to spell it out for Jay to understand? Apparently not, because after a moment, the taller boy nodded. 

“Oh, got it.” Then, he laughed softly. “Well, maybe kissing Mal would help her.” 

“Maybe.” Carlos wasn’t so sure. Evie had been struggling with girls for a long, long time. He would sometimes catch her muttering to herself about them, beating herself up for noticing how cute a cashier was or a barista. One time, he’d ever seen her switch lines at the grocery store to avoid a group of pretty girls. And Mal was no exception. He saw the way Evie tried not stare, the way she bit the inside of her cheek whenever Mal said something remotely sultry. But Jay didn’t know any of that, at least not yet, and Carlos knew for a fact that if Mal kissed Evie, it would be a setback. Evie had to initiate the kiss. That’s just how it had to be. 

The sound of keys jingling cut into his thoughts. “We’re going to get hair dye,” Mal announced, pulling Evie towards the door. 

“Wait, right now?” Evie grabbed at her curls desperately, a hint of fear apparent in her eyes. “Like, _right now,_ right now?” 

“Yeah, like right now, right now,” Mal quipped back, giving the boys a half-hearted wave. “Move, Princess, we don’t have all day. This is a process.” 

“I’ve had my hair dyed before, Mal.” 

“Not by me, you haven’t.” 

The door shut behind them, and the apartment was significantly quieter than it had been moments before. 

“Hey, look at that, we can breathe again,” Jay joked, standing up. “Except I wish the fucker hadn’t left me to do the dishes.” 

But there really wasn’t that much left to do. Carlos had already cleared most of the dishes, and now, his hands itched to grab the sponge. Washing dishes was one of the simplest chores he had at home. He had a certain process, a certain way he went about it. The plates or bowls first, then cups, then silverware - forks, spoons, then knives. Everything had an order. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he _broke_ that pattern, but he didn’t want to risk it. 

Jay filled the sink with soap and water, and Carlos tried not to cringe as the taller boy picked up a spoon and started to wash it. Carlos had been pretty good the whole week about not letting on about his weird washing habits, but then again, he’d always had something to distract him. He’d talked to Evie about fashion week in Paris, laughed when Mal brought out some old photos of Jay flexing, and wrestled with Jay after he put suds in his hair. This morning, though, with the girls gone, Carlos couldn’t seem to find anything else to focus on, and finally, he couldn’t take it. 

“Jay, please!” 

Jay paused, glancing over. “Yeah?” 

“S-stop.” 

“Stop what?” Jay’s confusion morphed into concern when he heard the tremor in Carlos’ voice. 

“Washing like that.” Carlos couldn’t lift his eyes from the floor. He couldn’t believe he’d opened his mouth. It sounded insane, batshit, crazy, even to his own ears. If he could take it all back, reverse the clock for just a few seconds, he swore he wouldn’t let those words out. But he had. And now he looked crazy. 

_Was he crazy?_

“Am I doing it wrong or something?” Jay asked, still sounding concerned. 

“No…” Carlos swallowed hard. “Yes. There’s a pattern. You have to do the plates first. You never start with the spoons. Ever.” 

“Carlos.” Jay turned off the water. “I promise you, nothing bad is gonna happen if I don’t wash in order.” 

“I know, I know, it’s so stupid.” Carlos shook his head, swallowing hard. His cheeks were still hot, and his face flushed with shame. “Look, it’s just a crazy thing that happens to me sometimes -” 

“You’re not crazy, dude.” Jay knelt down and gently lifted Carlos’ chin so that he could meet his eyes. “I promise, I swear it, on all the money and stolen jewelry in the world. It’s just… a habit, think of it like a bad habit, like your mom’s smoking, okay? She could break it. It might take a lot of work, and it might be really hard, but she could. Just like you can break this. Look, we’ll wash them together, okay? That way, we can break the pattern together. Over time.” 

_He’s wrong. You’re crazy. You’re insane._

“Shut up,” the freckled boy muttered, then gasped softly when Jay recoiled. “Not you, Jay, just - just her voice. My mom’s voice. She likes to tell me that…” 

“That what?” Jay prodded gently, and if it hadn’t been for his steady tone, Carlos might not have answered. But this was Jay, and if anyone would understand, it would be him. 

“That I’m crazy.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Just like her. And I’m not. Right?”  

“We’re all a little crazy,” Jay shrugged. “But you’re no more insane than the rest of us. You know what, that’s exactly why I grew my hair out, Pup. I wanted to be just Jay, without being connected to my past. And we can do that for you, too. So come on, come wash these last few dishes with me, and then we’ll start on your new look. Evie is gonna flip her shit when she sees you.” 

Once again, that magnetic quality about Jay’s voice guided him over to the sink, and after a moment, he picked up the sponge. He liked the way Jay spoke about his old self, like it was something that could be shed. If Jay could be reborn, why couldn’t he? And if that could happen, well then, maybe - just maybe - that horrible voice in his head could stop for good as well. 

“Will the New Carlos be strong?” he wondered aloud, turning on the water again. 

“That’s up to you,” Jay said with a shrug. “He can be whoever you want him to be.” He paused for a moment. “Just make sure he doesn’t lose that cute little nose crinkle when he laughs, alright?” 

That only made Carlos blush all over again, but this time, the warmth was good. He hadn’t realized how cold he’d gotten. The rest of the heat surged back into his limbs as soon as he picked up a spoon and began to wash it slowly; he could feel Jay grinning and nodding approvingly. 

“So, I saw that look on your face earlier,” Jay said, and Carlos was grateful for the change of subject. 

“I was overthinking shit as usual.” He didn’t mind admitting that to Jay. Jay could probably already tell anyway. 

“But it’s good to think things through sometimes,” Jay laughed. 

“Says the guy who ran away from home.” 

“I’m a bad example.” Jay flung a dish towel over his shoulder dramatically. “And I said _sometimes._ It’s important to think through some things. Like deciding to be… something more for someone.” 

The boys dried off their hands on the towel, and Carlos drained the water, thinking about what Jay had said. It hadn’t sounded like he was trying to pressure him. It was more like… an invitation. And Carlos could either accept, decline, or maybe postpone. 

“Let’s get started on your hair, huh?” Jay looked around the apartment once Carlos had stayed silent for a few beats. Apparently, Carlos’ blank stare had been an answer all its own. 

But Carlos had wanted to say something. He really had. His voice had just disappeared. He liked Jay. He liked his warmth and his life and his light. He liked the way he smiled and the way he looked right into him. Carlos felt _calm_ around the other boy - a different sort of calm; one that didn’t come from reciting the periodic table of elements or counting his breaths. And more than anything, Carlos wished he was brave enough to say that out loud. Maybe even to Jay’s face. But he couldn’t seem to find the words, yet. 

After a few minutes, when the hair straightener had been produced and Carlos had settled himself on a chair in front of the mirror, he finally found his voice again. 

“Why me?” 

The bright bathroom lights were outshined by the sudden twinkle in Jay’s eyes. “Why not you?” he joked playfully, giving Carlos a playful nudge. “Nah, seriously? I dunno. You can’t explain attraction, dude.” 

“I should be offended that you’re talking about attraction and still calling me ‘dude’,” Carlos shot back with a grin. 

“You got a problem with that?” A grin unfurled on Jay’s face as he paused, both of them anticipating the inevitable. “Dude?”  

“Shove off!” 

“Not a fucking chance, de Vil.” 

The hair straightener beeped, and Carlos couldn’t help laughing at Jay’s expression as he examined the tool. “That’s literally the easiest thing to use,” Carlos commented, watching Jay struggle with the temperature buttons. “And you’re the one with the long-ass hair. Shouldn’t you be the expert on hair care?”

“I know how to brush and wash my hair,” Jay protested with a laugh. “And Mal isn’t exactly the type to own a straightener now, is she?” 

He had a point. If it weren’t for Carlos’ own mother’s inability to do any of her own work (including hair maintenance), he probably wouldn’t know how to use one either. Not that he could blame all of it on his mother’s chore list, though. Maybe it was just due to his mother’s profession, but he’d always found styling a little bit fascinating. He was good at it, too.  But Carlos supposed normal boys didn’t partially enjoy beautifying activities. For a moment, he held his tongue, worried about coming on too strong. Should he pretend to be just as clueless as Jay? But after watching the taller boy fiddle with it for just a moment more, he took pity on the guy and reached back to take the straightener from him. 

“Hey, give it back! I can do it!” Jay tried to grab the iron, but Carlos swatted his hand away. 

“I’m just gonna demonstrate, chill.” Carlos glanced in the mirror, lifting a few of his curls. “Otherwise we might be here for days. See, you take a few strands of hair in one hand and pull it away from the head, then -” he clamped the straightener around the hair - “ - move away slowly and evenly. Once you get the hang of it  - hey, stop smiling like that!”  

Jay just smiled more, as if to spite him. “What? You’re cute.”

“Did you pay attention or just stare at me the whole time?” 

“Both,” the dark-haired boy replied cheekily. “I can multitask.” 

“No, you can’t. It’s physically not a thing. Ask science.” Carlos remembered learning about it the previous year in psychology. “The whole thing is just a really big misconception. Those who claim to be able to accomplish multiple things at once are actually only switching their attention back and forth very quickly.” 

“Smart ass.” 

“Whatever.” 

After a few more demonstrations by Carlos (which he secretly thought Jay was using another opportunity to stare), the other boy took the straightener in his own hands and slowly tried to copy the motions. “So, I take it like this…” 

“Yeah.” Carlos had to bite his lip to keep from smiling too much. Jay’s determination to do it himself was all kinds of adorable.  And too, Carlos had never expected to see someone like Jay so focused on properly weilding a straightening iron. Or that the same dude would find him so cute. 

“Hell yeah,” Jay grinned, admiring the mostly straight piece of hair. “I’m good at this.” 

“Only like two hundred strands to go.” 

It was actually kind of peaceful, Carlos realized after a little bit. Sitting cross-legged on the chair, watching Jay go to work in the mirror, smiling as the warm, former curls laid flat against his skin. A floaty feeling began forming gently in his chest, and not only was his mother’s voice caged up somewhere in the deepest, darkest depths of his subconscious, he didn’t even get chills thinking about it. Jay’s hands felt really nice in his hair, gently parting it, smoothing it out. This, right here, was definitely something he could get used to. 

“What the hell are you smoking?” Jay broke the silence. 

“Huh?” 

“You’re like… swaying. And smiling,” Jay laughed. “You look high as hell.” 

“Not high,” Carlos assured him with a little beam. “Just thinking. This is nice.” 

“Me straightening your hair?” 

The smaller teen nodded. “All of it. Talking with you, roasting you, getting roasted _by_ you. It’s… nice.” 

“Glad to hear it. I like it, too.” Jay surveyed his handiwork in the mirror, nodding at the mostly straight white hair. “Only one more side to go. It looks great. Add a little eyeliner and you’ll really send it over the edge.” Then, his expression turned thoughtful. “It’s funny. I kinda miss your curls already. You better not straighten it all the time. Just for work, okay?” 

“Don’t worry,” Carlos smiled reassuringly.  “I’ll save the straight hair for the streets. You were right, by the way.” 

“I’m right a lot,” Jay joked, pausing with the straightener in midair, snapping it a few times. “And I’ve been super fucking insightful today, so please, feel free to specify your point.” 

“That… uh…” Carlos swallowed hard. He wanted to tell Jay that he really, really liked him - that he wanted to _be_ something for him, whatever that something turned out to be. But the words didn’t seem to line up right, no matter how many times he rearranged them in his head, so Carlos settled for the next best thing: “Evie is definitely gonna flip her shit when she sees me.”

* * *

 

**~E~**

 

Most mothers had instructed their daughters not to get into cars with a strange girl who insisted on dying her hair with a wild look in her eye. 

Then again, Evie’s own mother told her a lot of things, mostly about her looks. Blush and bronzer and eyeshadow and mascara were more commonly dinner conversations than what-to-do-in-the-event-a-pretty-girl-demands-to-dye-your-hair.  Besides, Evie reasoned, Mal’s purple hair wasn’t the worst she’d ever seen. It actually looked really good on her - in a totally normal way. 

“You’re quiet,” Mal noticed, one hand resting on the steering wheel. Her green eyes never left the road, but her mind was clearly somewhere else. Probably thinking about Evie, which shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her anymore. Evie often caught Mal staring at her, almost unabashedly. And it was great and all, to know that she was attractive and appreciated, but… she still wasn’t interested. 

_Not now. Not ever. She’s nice, so nice. Well, maybe not nice. But really cool and chill. And I like her hair. It’s nice to be single! I haven’t been single in ages. It’s really great. And I wanna experience that for awhile, before I commit to anyone else. And it wouldn’t be her anyway._

Evie felt like she had a constant monologue in her head around Mal. It was a little exhausting. 

“Did you hear me?” Mal actually did glance over now. “Hey, you good?” 

“Huh?” Evie snapped out of her reverie, blinking. “Oh, yeah, sorry. It’s not everyday that a stranger orders me into a car so she can turn my hair into a -” 

“Blue-raspberry slurpee?” Mal smirked, looking rather pleased with herself. 

“Blue?” So that was the color Mal had in mind. Evie tried to imagine herself with blue hair. Blue went well with her brown eyes and facial structure. Ironically, it had been her mother who told her that, the same woman who would probably die on the spot if she knew what her daughter was at the moment. “It’s got to be dark blue, though. Otherwise it won’t be the right hue for my skin tone.” 

“Whatever.” Mal shook her head, turning the steering wheel rather aggressively. Evie was forced to grab the handle on the ceiling to keep herself from sliding against the window. “Mal!” 

 The other girl laughed. “You’ll get used to my driving. I’m surprised, Princess, I have to say. I would've bet some good money that you’d have balked by now.” 

“Blue hair isn’t that crazy - I mean -  it looks good on some people -” Evie trailed off and tapped her foot on the floorboard nervously. “Just don’t mess it up. Please? I really need to look good.” She was alright with bold fashion choices, loved them actually. But now that she thought about it, Evie realized just how much was at stake. If Mal did something wrong, if she somehow ruined her smooth, silky, curls… well, Evie would have to shave it off. She’d be bald, ugly, ruined - 

“MOVE, ASSHOLE! THE LIGHT IS GREEN!” Mal laid on the horn for a long moment, her sharp voice cutting through Evie’s anxious fretting. She should’ve known Mal would be a horrible driver. 

“You know, aggressive driving causes a lot of accidents,” Evie told Mal, studying the other girl’s questionable steering methods. 

“Yeah,” the girl agreed, taking another sharp turn. “Only if you’re a bad driver, though.” 

It was no use arguing with her; Mal also might’ve been the stubbornest girl Evie had ever come across. 

Mal screeched to a stop in front of a drugstore that could’ve been the most pitiful excuse for a store that Evie had ever seen. The green awning was faded and shredded, and the open sign in the window had almost burned out so that it read “o - en c-me n” instead of the intended “open, come in”. Evie figured that this was the kind of place drug deals or those robberies she saw on TV sometimes went down. Then again, she was practically living with two experienced thieves right now so this place kind of fit the bill. Evie wondered briefly why the idea didn’t scare her more. 

“The place is a dump, I know,” Mal told her as they walked inside. “But it’s cheaper than dirt, and I guarantee purple-hair is not the weirdest you’ll see in here.” 

Not by a long shot, Evie realized. Looking around, she noticed a gang of bikers in the candy aisle, the studs on their leather jackets gleaming under the cracked, fluorescent lights. An old woman dressed entirely in cheetah print - down to her slippers and the handle of her cane - was scanning the sad assortment of magazines on the rack (tabloids, really - with all the fake articles about celebrity affairs and botched plastic surgeries). Evie also saw several unaccompanied kids standing idly along the back wall. 

“So I see.” 

Evie admired how Mal walked into the joint like she owned it. She hardly paid any attention to the strange assortment of customers frequenting the shop, and in return, they hardly noticed her back. 

“Hair dye is on aisle three,” Mal rattled off automatically, and Evie figured that, after thousands of boxes of purple hair dye, the girl could probably find the stock in her sleep. “And we’re looking for a dark blue, isn’t that right, Princess? Or… should I call you Princess Blueberry now? Since that’s what you’re gonna look like?” 

“Very funny.” Evie rolled her eyes, following Mal to the third aisle and watching her pick out a box. The two girls spent quite a few minutes deciding which shade of blue would be dopest (Mal) and look best with her skin tone (Evie). They finally settled on a deep, rich blue that could only be described as cobalt. Or maybe sapphire. And as fluttery as the idea made her stomach, Evie couldn’t deny that a tiny part of her was a bit eager, maybe even excited, to see how it would look in the end.  

 “Do you think we picked the right color?” Evie asked as she and Mal climbed back into the car. 

“We’ll have to see,” the other girl shrugged, but Evie was sure she caught a glimmer of a grin. “Fair warning, by the time you get to the third mini shower to condition the hair, the water is fucking freezing because our hot water heater sucks ass. But it’s worth it. Just grit your teeth.” 

Evie hated cold showers - no - she _despised_ them. Every once and awhile, her mother would read some new article about the benefits of cold water at five in the morning and she’d all but shove Evie under the icy jets before the sun was even up. The frigid water always took her breath away and turned her lips blue and made her tremble, and worse, Evie never noticed that much of a difference in her complexion anyway. But without fail, almost as predictable as the tides or the moon phases, her mother found some new reason for her to get back into those ice baths. At the thought of her mother, a new thought struck Evie.  

“Wait, Mal!” she cried, reaching over to stop the girl from putting the key into the ignition. 

“Is there a problem?” 

“Go to my house, alright?” Evie spoke quickly. “My mom is out for the day - there’s a huge sale up in the city - and she’s got this huge sink and some nice brushes and … my hot water heater doesn’t hate me. No offense.” It would be a risk, but what about this whole thing _wasn’t?_

“None taken.” Mal actually looked kind of impressed, giving out a little nod. “I hate that piece of shit, too. But…” 

“Yes?” Evie asked breathlessly, waiting for Mal to set her conditions, whatever they might be. 

“You’re gonna have to let me start the car,” the purple-haired girl deadpanned, gesturing to Evie’s hand which was now draped over hers, left there after the attempt to stop the key in its path. “We can hold hands after, I promise.” 

Delicately removing her hand, Evie sat up straighter, turning to face the front again. “Maybe.” 

“Maybe?” Mal actually laughed, looking a bit incredulous. “Fuck yeah, that’s the best response I’ve ever gotten out of you.” 

“You’re not ever gonna drop this, are you?” Evie tried hard not to smile, even though one was definitely creeping across her face. Sure, in the beginning, Mal’s constant suggestive comments were annoying… and a little unsettling… but right now, watching the green-eyed girl smile to herself as she took another truly awful left turn, Evie couldn’t help but smile, too. Okay, so Mal was a bit endearing once you looked past the brash comments and rude remarks and simply pitiful driving skills. And maybe holding her hand wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world - but Evie still wasn’t going to do it. Maybe the other girl would forget. 

“You remember how to get to my house, yes?” Evie glanced over at Mal to confirm and was anything but reassured. 

“I hope so.” 

“Okay, you’re gonna want to get over… check your blindspot - MAL!” Evie yelped as the girl changed lanes without warning, cutting off the white van behind them, rather egregiously. 

“Whoops.” 

They finally did make it to Evie’s place - mostly unharmed - and with only two wrong turns by Mal. And as they walked up the driveway, Evie was suddenly struck by how little time she was spending here now. It used to feel like her prison. She’d go to school and come home, with no time to see anyone she actually wanted to see - just her mother’s usual crowd of name-dropping socialites. And Chad, of course. The asshole. 

Once upon a time,  Evie’s mother had been something of a big deal. Rich, powerful, beautiful - the awards from her various pageants and beauty competitions lining their hallways. But even Evie could see that her mother had fallen out of favor. Her figure had filled out with age, her hair was grey under the dye, and the surgeries that she kept insisting would return her youth were doing anything but. Sometimes, at night, Evie would wonder if that would be her someday - no longer beautiful, just trying to cling to a final shred of vain glory - but the thought scared her so much she rarely let her mind dwell there. 

“This way,” Evie motioned, leading Mal towards the garage and typing in the code. 

“Let me guess -” Mal spit her gum out in the bushes (where had she gotten it in the first place?) “Is the code your birthday or something?” 

“No.” Evie frowned, glancing over her shoulder. “It’s the date my mom won her Fairest Beauty Pageant. Why?” The fact had never given her pause before, but now, she could see how it might be seen as twisted. Passwords were supposed to be special dates, weren’t they? But it wasn’t her mother’s fault, she knew. The beauty pageant was more important than any birthday, any holiday, and they celebrated its anniversary every year (the same number, so her mother wouldn’t feel old). 

“No reason.” 

The two girls went inside, and Mal seemed rather indifferent to the high ceilings and nice pillows on the couch. And Evie, for once, wasn’t eager to show them off. Instead, she grabbed Mal’s arm and pulled her upstairs, hardly registering that it was, in fact, the first time she’d touched the other girl willingly. And that she’d already broken her promise not to hold her hand again. 

“Is this a bathroom or a department store?” Mal asked, wrinkling up her nose as they stepped into the room. 

“It’s the master,” Evie said apologetically, starting to unpack the dye kit. After spending so much time at Mal’s apartment, even she could see the excess in the bathroom. “And I know, it’s a little ridiculous, and there’s no need for -” 

“I wish we had these towels,” Mal interrupted, holding one of the fluffy white towels against her cheek. “How the fuck do they get these to feel so soft?” She rattled the stainless steel towel rack, not gently, Evie might add. “Ah sick, and the rack doesn’t fall off the wall every time you try to hang something on it?” 

“Yeah,” the dark-haired girl laughed softly. “I guess not.” 

After another few moments of examining the towel rack, Mal finally turned back to her. “Well, maybe someday we’ll all win the lottery, and we can buy a hundred soft towels and sturdy racks for each of them, huh?” 

“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” Glancing at the box, Evie put her hands on her hips. “So, you’re the drugstore dye expert apparently. What’s the first step?” 

Evie was no stranger to long hair endeavours - sometimes her mom would have her sit still for hours while she styled - but this was an entirely new experience for her. There were no fancy hair products, no marble bowls for hair washing, no reclining chairs. Mal didn’t even have one of those heavy weighted smocks for her to wear. But Evie had to admit, despite the rather primitive working materials, at least Mal didn’t make it boring. The purple-haired girl had placed her phone inside of the sink bowls (something Evie had advised against, but Mal had insisted that it amplified the sound) and now, heavy metal rock music was blasting through the bathroom. 

“Pass me the box!” Mal shouted above the noise, reaching her hand out. 

“ _What_?” 

“Pass! The box! To me!” 

Mal was also a lot kinder than her mother, which Evie found rather funny considering “nice” wasn’t ever a word she’d normally associate with the other girl. Then again, Mal never said things like, “you’re lucky you’ve got boobs because your hair is dry and thin” and “can’t you sit still for ten seconds? Do you need me to tape you down like I did when you were two?’ - both of which Evie had heard from her maternal figure on multiple occasions. Mal’s comments were much more uplifting - and genuine, Evie realized, considering she hadn’t hestitated to call her out on being a bitch not that many days ago. 

“I think this should be your new look,” the other girl snorted as she examined newly yellow strands after they’d finished bleaching. “You look like me before the purple.” 

“I could look like worse things, I guess,” Evie laughed. 

And as they continued, Evie was very grateful she’d convinced Mal to do it here. Having a warm and working hot water heater at her disposal made a world of difference by the time she hopped into the shower for the third time. And too, it meant she got to show off one of her bikinis while she showered (no way was she getting naked in front of Mal). 

A few weeks ago, if someone had told Evie that she would be sitting on the floor of her bathroom in a soaking wet bathing suit having her hair dyed by Mal of all people, she would have laughed in their face. But here she was doing exactly that. And worse, she was kind of enjoying herself. Mal kept stepping in puddles of water and cursing loudly, mixing the dye and shouting instructions over the music. And whatever her driving skills may have indicated, the girl wasn’t too rough and painted the strips of hair as efficiently as any salon.

 “A lot of practice, Princess,” she’d said with a shrug when Evie had asked how she’d gotten so good.  

All the time Evie spent sitting in front of the mirror also gave her a chance to study Mal without being too obvious. Evie liked how she stuck out her tongue every so slightly while concentrating; she noticed how carefully Mal handled her hair and how natural the paintbrush looked in her hand (Evie wondered for a moment whether she might be an artist); and also, the way Mal narrowed her eyes every time she glanced up and almost caught Evie staring. 

“What?” the purple-haired girl would squint every time it happened. 

“Nothing.” 

“It’s not nothing, tell me!” 

And every time, Evie would laugh and just shake her head. Carlos had told her that it was fun to tease Mal, but she hadn’t understood what he’d meant until now. 

“You’re gonna look bomb,” Mal said for the hundredth time. “So fucking bomb.” 

And for once, Evie agreed with her.  She’d started to warm up to the idea of blue hair, and suddenly, she couldn’t wait to see what it looked like - no matter how anxious she was about having it done. They sat on the bathroom floor now, with Evie checking the time every couple of seconds. It took a long time for the dye to set. 

“How much now?” 

“A long time, Princess.” 

“Still?” She’d sigh heavily, glancing around the bathroom, wishing it was possible to skip forward in time just a bit. Her eyes wandered back to Mal, who was still wearing dye-stained gloves, and she frowned. “Why did you decide to run away?” 

Mal sat back, folding her arms. “Not the question I expected.” 

“I’m bored.” Evie studied her face, trying to see if she’d caught her off guard, but Mal was as stone-faced as ever. “And I’m curious. Sue me.” 

“Adventure,” Mal answered too quickly. “We wanted to see if we could pull it off.” It sounded convincing, but Evie knew it was a lie. Mal was good at lying; almost too good. 

“No.” Evie shook her head. “That’s not the whole story, M. But it’s fine, you don’t have to tell me.” 

“M?” 

“Mal!” Evie felt herself flush. “I meant Mal. It just - it came out wrong.” 

“Sure it did.” The other girl looked very pleased. “Alright, fine. I’ll tell you a little bit because you’re cute and because it’s better than you asking how much time is left, alright… _E?”_

And that was fine by Evie. She folded her arms and got comfortable, waiting. “Go on.” 

“Look, it’s not actually that interesting.” Mal shook her head. “And I’m sure Jay’s already told Freckles his whole life history back home, so I guess you’re behind when it comes to your knowledge of tragic backstories.” 

“Do you think they’re together? Like _together together?_ ” Evie twisted a string of her bathing suit around her pointer finger, chewing on her lip. The moment she asked, though, she regretted it, because Mal jumped on the question as a way out of answering the other one. 

“If they aren’t, they will be soon,” she said. “I know Jay better than the asshole knows himself, and I think he and I both know he’s whipped, which just goes to show how fucking crazy he is about that kid.” 

And as long as they were on the topic, Evie figured she’d ask what had been keeping her up lately. She’d woken up several times last night imagining scenarios she hoped would stay in her overactive imagination and never escape into reality where they could hurt someone. Carlos, to be more specific. “Is Jay…” She paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it without offending Mal. “I know you and him are close.” 

“Close?” Mal examined her chipping black nail polish with a little frown. “We live together, E.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Evie nodded slowly. “And he seems great, you know. Really, really chill. But would you trust him to be a good boyfriend when it really came down to it? Like - would you date him?” 

At first, the purple-haired girl shook her head, and Evie’s heart sank. “No. I wouldn’t date him. _But_ -” 

“But?” 

“Just because I’m not into him doesn’t mean I wouldn’t trust him with my entire life.” Mal didn’t look like she was joking in the slightest, her lips set in a firm line, eyes narrow and stare piercing. “It’s probably safer in his hands than mine.” 

Evie wasn’t about to argue there; she’d seen the way Mal drove. And it was comforting, she supposed, to hear how fiercely Mal defended him, how much faith she had in him. “How long have you two been friends?” 

“Oh, I’ve known him since we were young,” the girl shrugged. “We lived in the same neighborhood, went to the same school. We didn’t start out as friends, but… you know. Circumstances change.” 

“Circumstances?” Evie knew she was pushing the conversation back in the other direction, and she wasn’t quite sure whether Mal would fold or push back. 

“Just little things.” 

 _She’s pushing back._ Evie nodded to herself. If Mal wouldn’t open up about her past quite yet, she’d stick with a topic the other girl would talk about. 

“And you think he’ll be loyal to Carlos?” Evie couldn’t imagine having to pick up the pieces if this didn’t go well. If Jay broke Carlos’ heart… if he went out, got drunk, picked up some girl and - 

“Evie?” Mal snapped her fingers in front of her face. “Did you hear what I just said?” 

“Uh -” 

“Once Jay chooses you,” Mal repeated with a look in her eyes that Evie had never seen before. Something almost… proud, dark, and maybe a little protective. “He will do anything for you. And I mean that.” 

“Okay.” Evie suddenly got the sense that there was more to the story, and she leaned forward some. “Did - did something happen?” 

“Happen?” Mal snorted. “No -” 

“M!” 

“Fine.” Mal folded her arms and huffed. “He jumped in front of a car for me. We’d been friends for awhile, I guess, but that was the first time -” 

“He _what?”_ Evie’s jaw dropped. Whatever she had been expected, it hadn't been that. “That's like - Mal - the only people who do that are in romance movies, and you two aren't even in love!” 

“Chill out, Princess.” Mal rolled her eyes dramatically. “For fuck’s sakes. This is why I don't tell people shit. Everyone acts like it's such a big deal. It's not a movie, Evie, this is real life. My life.” 

“No, okay, okay, I'm calm.” Evie made a show of taking a breath and smiling placidly. “So - did he get hurt?”

“No.” Mal shook her head. “The driver stopped. But he was completely willing to take the hit, and I promise you, he would do the same for Carlos.” 

And Evie nodded, processing. If Jay really had been willing to do something like that, if he really did value Mal’s life over his own - well, maybe Carlos would be okay, after all. 

“Aren’t you the beauty queen here?” Mal asked suddenly. “Why am I dying your hair? Shouldn't you be dying mine? I just learned from Google, dude.” 

“And it looks that good?” Evie gawked. 

“Uh - yeah?” 

The taller girl shook her head. “Well, my mother and I usually go to the salon for our hair. But I know makeup and clothes and fingernails, and I can cut hair! Or I’m trying to learn, anyway.” 

“You’re pretty good with a makeup brush,” Mal told her. 

Evie felt a sudden rush of pride. “You really think so?” 

“Sure.” Mal pointed to her eyelids, which were void of any makeup at all. “Do you see me wearing sparkly shit?” 

“No,” Evie gave her a look. “But somehow I don’t think you’d want to wear it even if I offered to put it on myself.” 

“Very true.” Mal actually laughed a little, shaking her head. A timer went off, startling Evie just a little. “That's time, Princess!” Mal got up to switch off the beeping. “Let's see how this looks.” 

The fluttery feeling from earlier returned, stronger this time, and Evie bit her lip nervously. “It’s gonna look good, right?” 

Mal gave her a little smile, which made her feel a bit better,  and they carefully started removing the foil. Evie could hardly stand still; she felt five-years old again as she bounced from foot to foot - thoroughly annoying Mal, who kept grunting. 

“I’ve got bad news for you,” Mal said once the foil was out. 

“Oh no.” Evie bit her lip, looking in the mirror. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

“You’re gonna have to have a cold shower this time,” Mal told her grimly. 

Evie almost frowned, but then she remembered something her mother always told her: hot water lifted the outer cuticle layer. “So it won’t fade. It’s got to do with not stripping the cuticles, right?” 

Mal looked confused. “I dunno, that’s just what I read one time, and it seems to work.” 

Evie nodded, crossing her fingers for luck as she turned on the (cold) shower, and stepped inside. Her breath escaped her in a soft gasp, and she could hear Mal chuckling outside. 

“Cold, cold, _cold, cold,”_ she chanted as she washed her hair, trying to keep the rest of her body from touching the icy spray. It brought back too many memories of the other cold showers her mother required, the ones she’d been trying to avoid. “Why didn’t you tell me I had to take a cold shower regardless of where we were?” 

“I didn’t want you to wimp out!” Mal called. “Don’t be a pussy. It’s just cold water.” 

“I’m not a pussy.” Evie stopped chanting after that.  

“Hurry up.” Mal shook the shower curtain a few moments later. “Come on, I wanna see.” 

“Ok, ok!” Evie called breathlessly, grabbing the vinegar solution her mother always kept in the shower to keep hair color bright and vibrant. 

“What is that smell?” she heard Mal ask. “Is that vinegar?” 

“I’m washing my hair with it!” Evie crinkled up her nose at the stench. “Smells bad, but  it keeps colors bright! Just because I haven’t dyed my hair crazy colors doesn’t mean I’ve never had it highlighted.” 

Soon, Evie was watching the (blue) water swirl down the drain before shutting off the shower. She stood there for a few moments, catching her breath. This was it, she supposed. The big reveal. Slowly, Evie reached out and pulled aside the shower curtain, stepping out and wrapped the towel Mal held out to her around her shoulders. 

“We’ll be able to see it better dry,” Evie said as she glanced in the mirror, noticing that her lips were also a nice shade of blue. 

The blow dryer helped warm her up. She had been drying and straightening and taming her hair since, well, forever, and now, if she closed her eyes, she could be doing those familiar steps to her everyday, brown curls instead. The hot air from the blow dryer felt nice on her cold skin, and she couldn’t help training the stream of air on her neck a couple of times to help speed up the warming process. 

“I feel like a piece of frozen meat,” she laughed softly. “And this is the hot air thawing me out.” 

“No more meat analogies,” Mal snorted. “You’re lucky Jay isn’t here to make a perverted joke.” 

Evie closed her eyes as she dried, almost too scared to open them for fear of what she might see. Thankfully, she could wield a blowdryer in her sleep, and all too soon, she heard Mal telling her to switch the thing off. 

 _Please look good, please look good,_ she prayed as she clicked the air stream off and the dryer died. Now that the noisy machine had stopped, the room was mostly quiet save for the tapping of Mal’s foot and the occasionally dripping of the shower.

“Well, fuck me,” Mal said eventually in a low voice that was almost awed. “E, open your eyes.” 

Carefully, gingerly, Evie let her eyes drift open. The girl in the mirror stared back at her. It was Evie, mostly. The nose and the eyes and water droplets that clung to her waterproof mascara were all familiar. But the hair was blue and rich, curling around her shoulders in cascades of vibrant cobalt. Evie couldn’t speak. She just let her hands reach up and stroke the new hair, her mouth parted in wonder. It looked… good. Really good. And pretty, she realized. She had picked the perfect shade for her skin. It didn’t clash, it didn’t look matted or gross. And she… she loved it. 

“Mal…” 

“It looks good, doesn’t it?” It was like the shorter girl had read her mind. 

She stared at herself - something she’d done a hundred times before - but this time, she wasn’t trying to wish away a flaw. “Mal… I look… ” 

“Like a blue raspberry slushie?” Mal said again. And this time, Evie agreed. 

“I’ve never had one of those, but -” 

“You’ve never had a slushie?” Mal looked appalled, and Evie felt a little embarrassed. Her mother had never, _ever_ let her put things like that into her body. Too much sugar, too many calories, you’ll get fat, Evie, you’ll get sick, Evie, and on and on and on. But Mal didn’t seem to care. She just kept staring at Evie like she’d gone insane, finally grabbing her arm and dragging her towards the door. Evie protested, of course. They couldn’t very well leave her mother’s bathroom full of blue-tinted towels and gloves - they’d both be murdered in their sleep. And even though Mal groaned and grumbled, she conceded to help Evie scour the place. Every blue stain, every puddle of water, had to be gone. Her mother couldn’t know anyone had been there at all. Only when the place looked as pristine as it had been before they’d entered (even the trash cans had been emptied) did Evie let Mal pull her back downstairs and into the car. 

Mal drove her to the gas station where she promptly pushed her inside and purchased two blue slushies - which were way brighter than Evie’s hair but she didn’t point that out- and the girls sat on the curb outside to drink them. 

“How is it?” Mal asked, shoving her straw in and out of the lid to crunch down the drink. 

“Very sweet,” Evie told her, laughing when she saw the color on Mal’s tongue. “You’re blue.” 

“Huh?” 

“Your tongue,” Evie giggled. “It’s blue.” 

“Oh.” Mal took another sip. “So’s yours.” 

“What?!” Evie stuck out her tongue, trying to see it and making herself cross-eyed in the process. “Ten bucks Jay cracks a ‘making out’ joke when we show up.” 

“Twenty,” Mal grinned back. “He’d make one even if we weren’t sharing the same color tongue.” 

And as Evie sipped her icy blue drink and played with her new sapphire curls, she smiled. The curb was dusty, the gas station smelled a little bit like weed and cigarettes, but she felt like a new person. And this new girl wasn’t going to be prissy or ditzy or _fairest._ She was going to be - 

“You look badass, E,” Mal told her with a smirk. “Really, really badass.” 

_Badass._

That’s what she was going to be. 

Maybe that’s what she already was. 

 

 

 


	6. Kisses and Karma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys <3 i hope everyone is doing a little better. it's crazy to think that descendants 3 premieres in the U.S. just one week from now. just a little heads up for this chapter: carlos experiences some anxiety/panic symptoms and a character uses strong, offensive language during evie's section. 
> 
> enjoy <3

**~M~**

 

“Twenty, forty, sixty - hey, Jay, did you mean to pick up this bracelet?” 

Mal looked up from her perch on the corner of the table, glancing over her shoulder at Jay. He and Carlos could hardly pull themselves away from the computer screen in front of them, doing who-knew-what. During the last month or two, they’d become increasingly engrossed in Carlos’ onscreen skills - which had turned out to be pretty impressive. 

“Jay!” Mal barked again, holding up the diamond bracelet so that it caught the light. “Dickhead! Did you mean to swipe this?” 

Neither boy even lifted their eyes. “Oh, oh, can you get inside the movie theatre?” Jay was laughing, leaning on Carlos’ shoulder. “We could get great bootlegs any time we wanted - wait, what, Mal? Oh, the bracelet?” He rolled his eyes, finally pulling himself away from the screen. “It was just sitting there on this woman’s wrist. I thought Evie might like it.” 

“You're getting a little cocky, don't you think?” Mal examined the bracelet, frowning some. The diamonds (were they real?) sparkled nicely, set an even distance away around the band. She figured some nice young woman was calling her insurance company at the moment. Still, she and Jay both agreed they didn't need to steal anything but cash. It was too risky, no matter how nice the bracelet. She knew Jay was good, but what if he messed up? What if someone caught him trying to snatch a ring or a watch? Not that she was worried about him or anything. 

“Chill, Dragon.” Jay gave her a confident smile. “It was one-time thing, alright? I won't do it again.”  

“You better not.” She went back to counting the cash they’d brought in off the streets that evening. Behind her, Carlos and Jay whooped. “What are you two doing, anyway?” 

“Carlos is hacking security cameras.” Jay flipped the screen her way with another grin. “We’ve gotten into the police station, the movie theater, and this weird old lady’s house.” 

“She had like twenty hairless cats,” Carlos laughed, shaking his head as his fingers flew across the keyboard. “Maybe that’s why she put the cameras up. To make sure no one steals them.” 

“Wait… ” Mal scrunched up her face, finally putting their words together. “Aren’t those security cameras closed circuit?” 

Carlos met her eyes, something flickering under his stare for a few moments. Something dangerous. “Yup.” 

Apparently, cars weren't the only machines Carlos understood. 

The sound of the door opening made all three of them pause and look up, just in time to see Evie walk in carrying several boxes of pizza. Mal smiled, relaxing again as the boys jumped up to grab the boxes. 

“Fuck yeah!” Carlos laughed, opening on and sitting on the bed. 

“About time.” Jay had already crammed a slice into his mouth. “We’re starving!” 

“No trouble?” Mal stood up, now, too. She prided herself on being cool and detached when others got too emotionally charged. No matter how relieved she was to have food, Mal wouldn’t ravage the boxes like a hungry animal. She also noticed - not for the first time lately - how good Evie’s hair looked now with her usual selection of blue skirts and dresses. 

“I hit some traffic,” Evie smiled, setting down the last pizza box in front of Mal. “But I managed. I got your favorite, too.” 

“Black olives?” Mal could feel a smile threatening to emerge. She adored black olive pizza, but was often outvoted by Jay. He insisted that it spoiled the whole pizza and that the “taste spread,” whatever the hell that meant. 

“And extra cheese.” Sliding into the chair beside her, Evie glanced at the spoils they’d collected. “Good haul today?” 

“Mostly.” Mal’s cool exterior cracked slightly as she grabbed a slice and started eating, sighing happily as the taste of warm pizza filled her mouth. “Why don’t you ask Jay what he brought home today?” 

When Evie raised her eyebrow questioningly, Jay pointed to the table. He tried to say something, but his mouth was so full of food no one could understand. 

“What?” 

Jay swallowed and pointed again. “Diamond bracelet. Figured you might like it.” 

Mal watched Evie finally take notice of the bracelet. And even if her eyes  _ did  _ light up in that adorable way of hers and even if she laughed and admired the thing in the light, she wasn’t about to stop harping on Jay. She couldn’t very well switch standpoints now. 

“Jay, you shouldn’t have,” Evie grinned as she wrapped it around her wrist. “Oh, it’s lovely! Is this Tiffany's? Piaget? What gorgeous gal did you swipe this off of?” 

“Some woman downtown.” Jay looked pretty smug, which only served to make Mal more annoyed. She could have stolen that bracelet just as easily if she'd wanted. 

“It’s not that big a deal,” Mal grumbled. “It’s a simple clasp, you just flick your wrist and kinda -” 

“Oh, Mal.” Evie gave her an amused look. “Don’t get jealous now. It looks like he got something for Carlos, too.” 

She was right. Although Mal hadn't noticed it before, there was a suspiciously shiny watch resting on Carlos’ wrist. 

“You got him something, too?” Mal folded her arms. “I can't believe you.”

Jay didn't look perturbed in the slightest. In fact, his smile stayed as smug and proud as ever. “It was an easy get, I promise. I’ll get you something, too, if you want.” 

“I don't.” Okay, maybe she did. A little bit. He did have a habit of nicking cool things - it wasn't like this was the first time he hadn't been able to help himself - but she wasn’t going to tell him that. 

“Yes, you do.” He winked at her. “I’ll get you something this week.” 

“Not jewelry.” 

“Of course not.” 

When the pizza boxes were empty and the four teenagers were full, they sat around the kitchen table to discuss tomorrow’s plans, just like they’d been doing for the past couple of weeks. 

“Okay, Jay are you going out in the morning?” Mal toyed with a couple of quarters, spinning them on the tabletop. 

“I think we got enough today, actually.” Jay smiled at Carlos, who flipped him off affectionately in return. “It’s been nice to have Carlos on the phone manning the cameras and telling me where the high traffic areas are.” 

“And when there’s a pole right in front of you,” Carlos snickered, and this time, it was Jay who raised his middle finger. Mal suddenly got the sense that there was more to the story. 

“What happened?” she asked, curious. She trusted Jay, even if she did give him a hard time about stealing the bracelet and the watch. Jay wasn’t usually the clumsy type.

“I saw it coming.” Jay shook his head. “I swear. You just startled me.” 

“Nah, he didn’t.” Carlos winked at Mal. “I had to warn him over the phone.” 

“Carlitos,” Evie chided, blowing on the nails she was repainting. “Don’t tease him.” 

“I’m not!” Carlos smiled at Jay, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Mal stared at the two of them again, shaking her head. According to Jay, Carlos still hadn’t answered “the boyfriend question” yet. And while she understood the whole waiting-for-him-to-be-ready thing, a part of Mal just wanted to shove the two of them in a room with some beer and wait. They really were annoying. Besides, it wasn’t like they’d stopped sleeping in the same bed or anything. It was only a matter of time as far as she was concerned - and what was the harm in speeding things up? 

“Mal…” Evie sang softly, leaning forward, her brush paused in mid air. “Whatever you’re thinking… don’t.” And she was right, as Evie usually was these days. 

“But it would be funny.” 

“You’d regret it later.” Evie went back to her nails, adding a second coat. “Go finish that drawing you were working on. Maybe you’ll even show it to me this time.” 

Grudgingly, Mal got up and retrieved the small box of art supplies she’d collected over the years. She’d picked up her first real paintbrush at school, in art class, but she’d been drawing in the dirt and on the edge of napkins since she could hold a pencil. Between the rent and food, Mal and Jay had never really had spare cash for luxuries like good art supplies, but here and there she’d managed to pick up a few things. Last year, on her birthday, Jay had even gone so far as to get her a set of real charcoal - just like the ones she used to love using when they’d gone to school. Even now, as she rolled a stick lovingly between her fingers, Mal couldn’t help smiling some. The black medium was messy and abstract and dark, just like she was. She understood charcoal. It made sense to her. That said, though, her newest drawing was giving her some trouble. No matter how many lines she drew, the girl’s face didn’t look quite right.

It was Evie. Or, it was supposed to be anyway. Actually, it was supposed to be all four of them - Carlos and Jay, too - but since they’d been even more impossible than Evie (and she despised drawing self-portraits), she’d given up on all of them and shoved the drawing under her bed late last night.  

“You gonna work for me today?” Mal asked softly, her fingers hovering over the paper. 

“Are you talking to your painting again?” Evie smiled, looking over at her. 

“The damn thing won’t cooperate,” Mal grumbled, squinting at it critically. “It looks all wrong.” 

“Well, maybe if you showed it to me -” 

“No.” In response, Mal faced the paper away from Evie. She also hated showing people unfinished drawings - it felt like standing up on a stage naked or something. Especially when the art wasn’t depicting her usual dark, foggy landscapes. Her muse normally led her in darker directions than portraits of people, but for whatever reason, it seemed hell bent on having her veer off course. When had she gotten so damn soft? 

“Alright, alright,” Evie laughed, shaking her head. She seemed about to say something else when her phone started ringing. 

“Is that Becky G?” Mal couldn’t help goading the other girl a little bit. It was just too easy. 

“It is,” Evie sniffed haughtily with only a  _ hint  _ of a grin. “This happens to be a great song, and sometimes… I don’t pick up just so that I can dance to it.” 

“Who’s calling you?” Carlos wanted to know, uncertainty apparent under the freckles. “Is it your mother again?” 

Lately, Evie had been keeping her mother sated with happy stories of her and Chad’s latest trip to New York. The story did have some truth to it - Chad was indeed in New York City - but Evie had declined to join him. Apparently, the woman wasn’t too concerned with fact checking. 

But this time, Evie’s phone displayed just a string of unknown numbers. 

“I’m not sure who that is.” She frowned, studying the numbers as if trying to rearrange them into a more coherent form of caller ID. 

“Let it go, then.” Mal didn’t waste her time with sales calls, and neither did Evie it seemed because she simply shrugged and turned off her phone. 

“Okay, where were we?” She checked the status on her nails and nodded, satisfied with their drying progress. “Oh, right. You were going to show me your painting.” 

“No, I’m like one hundred percent sure that I wasn’t.”

_ Nice try, Blueberry. You sure are cute.  _

The four returned to their nightly routine, the unknown caller completely forgotten for the time being. In fact, the call didn’t cross Mal’s mind again until the following afternoon when she was standing when Evie at the grocery store checkout counter. 

“Uh, can you try again?” the kid behind the counter asked for the third time. “It keeps saying your card was declined.” 

Evie laughed breathily, but Mal noticed the way her fingers fidgeted nervously with her necklace as she ran her credit card for the fourth time. “Did it work?” 

“No.” The cashier looked apologetic. “I really don’t know what to say. I can call my manager and see -” 

“E.” Mal stepped forward, opening up her wallet. “It’s fine, I’ll pay.” 

“No, Mal, really.” The blue-haired girl smiled forcibly. “I’m probably swiping it wrong.” 

Please. If anyone knew how to swipe a credit card, it was Evie Grimhilde. The card definitely had something wrong with it. When the card was declined a fifth time, Evie finally stepped aside and let Mal finish the transaction - with cash, this time. 

“I’m sorry.” Evie shook her head as they loaded groceries into the trunk of the car. “That’s never happened to me before. I don’t know what went wrong.” 

“Don’t apologize.” The situation didn’t call for an apology - Evie hadn’t done anything wrong. It was the stupid card, not her. “It’s not your fault that the card sucks ass.” Then, Mal paused. “Could that have been your credit card company last night? The call we ignored?” 

“Maybe.” Evie examined the card and climbed into the passenger seat. 

“Did they leave a voicemail?” 

Sliding the credit card back into her wallet, the other girl shrugged. “Not sure. I can check when we get back, though.” 

“Evie didn’t bring her phone?” Mal pretended to die of shock. She often teased Evie about her addiction to the thing. Between the selfies and the social media, the girl was rarely seen without a device in hand. Although, Mal did have to give her credit - since she’d dyed her hair, she hadn’t been able to post anything taken recently, so blue haired selfies really didn’t do her much good. 

“Shut up!” Evie cried with a laugh, putting her hands over her ears. “It was dead, okay? And I knew the boys wouldn’t be home from the library yet, so I figured it was safe!” 

“I don’t know what they do over there.” Jay and Carlos went over to the library almost as much as they went out on their rounds. Jay said they were doing “cool things” and Carlos backed him up, but she had a sneaking suspicion that they were studying. Mal had no idea what they could possibly be studying for, and she didn’t really care enough to waste time trying to figure it out. 

By the time the girls returned home, Mal had other things to worry about. It was clear that Evie was still upset about the credit card situation. 

“Why would it get declined?” Evie asked, rushing to her phone as soon as Mal unlocked the front door. “Would they have left a voicemail? Maybe I should call them back.” 

“You could’ve just spent too much too fast,” Mal offered, sitting on the counter. She knew she should put away the groceries, but at the moment, she felt like leaving them for Jay to do instead. “We have been using it. A lot.” 

And that was true. Paying completely in cash was fine for pizza deliveries and drugstore runs, but they all agreed that having a credit card made higher priced items so much easier to buy. Just as long as Evie stuck to stores that wouldn’t look too suspicious when her mother checked the spending history, the four were in the clear. Food was usually a safe bet. And clothes. She’d come home last week with four whole shopping bags full of new clothes for everyone, something that Jay and Carlos were appreciative of outwardly, and Mal was appreciative of inwardly. She’d spent most of the time complaining about having to try the clothes on (even though Evie had nailed her grunge, purple style). 

“They did leave a message.” Evie glanced up, holding the phone to her ear. But instead of relief, her face colored with something else. Confusion, maybe. Or fear. “But it’s definitely not my card company… or anyone that I know…” 

“So, a wrong number then.” Mal didn’t know why Evie looked so spooked suddenly; it was probably just one of those weird callers she often told to go to hell. 

In response, Evie played the phone message out loud. 

“I’m trying to reach Genevieve Grimhilde,” the message began. The man’s voice made her slightly uncomfortable, but she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was all the formalities. “It’s been requested that you call this number back and ask for John Gardner when you have the next available opportunity. Wishing you a pleasant day, Ms. Grimhilde. I will speak to you soon.” 

“He was a robot. I’m calling it.” Mal stared at the phone. He’d sounded like a politician. And if there was anything she despised more than sales callers, it was sleazy politicians. “I move we don’t call back.” 

“That’s not really an option,” Evie told her, but even she looked a little tempted. 

“Shut up, it’s always an option.” 

 Evie didn’t seem convinced. In fact, her hand kept drifting to the phone, almost grabbing it, then pulling back. They hadn’t bothered to turn the kitchen lights on when they’d walked in - and now the switch was too far for Mal to bother - so both girls sat in the semi-darkness, waiting for Evie to make a decision. 

“Okay, this is ridiculous,” Mal scoffed finally. “I’ll call back, okay?” She jumped off the counter and snatched up the phone, dialing the number before Evie could tell her no. “It’s ringing.” 

“Alright… what’s it saying? Who picked up?” Evie hovered over her shoulder, watching anxiously. 

“Nothing,” Mal huffed as elevator music began to play. “We’re on hold.” 

The girls sat in silence, waiting. Mal hating being put on hold. She hated the music; she hated the waiting; she hated the weird silences when the music stopped and looped again. 

“Evie?” Mal asked, trying to break the stillness. “Why didn’t you go to college? You’re fucking smart. You could’ve. Easily.” 

Evie looked a little sad. “I wanted to. Carlos did, too. But his Mom would never let him leave her, and  _ my  _ mom wants me to go to this all-girls finishing school instead. They waitlisted me this year, and she was furious. I’m going next year, though. If they let me in.”

Mal wanted to say something else, but before she could, something clicked and then the music stopped. A woman picked up, and even if her voice wasn’t as annoying as the man’s had been, it still made Mal roll her eyes. But this was for Evie (and maybe herself, too, because now she was curious,) so she soldiered on and asked for John Gardner like the voicemail had instructed. 

“Is this Ms. Grimhilde?” 

That greasy voice had returned. And this time, it was talking directly to her. Or… to Evie, she supposed. 

“Yes, this is she,” Mal lied smoothly, trying to make her voice sound more like the blue-haired girl’s. The urge to say “what the fuck do you want” was strong, but Mal figured the man wouldn’t appreciate the vulgarity. 

“I don’t sound like that!” Evie whispered with a laugh, folding her arms. “You’re mocking me.” 

“Ms. Grimhilde, yes,” the man said, and somewhere on the other end, Mal thought she heard papers rustling. “I met with your mother yesterday.” At that, Mal’s stomach dropped, and she quickly put the phone on speaker. 

Evie’s mother? 

What on earth would that woman be doing speaking with a lawyer? 

“Wh-” Evie tried to say, but quickly had a hand clapped over her mouth by Mal. 

“Normally, I tell my clients to go about this in a slightly… more personal…  manner, but she insisted I speak with you about it instead.” The man cleared his throat now, pausing - but whether for effect or just to gather his thoughts, neither girl could quite tell for sure. “Your mother has chosen to name a new beneficiary in regards to her last will and testament. Now, I understand that you are her only daughter and that your father is no longer in the picture. I also know that you’ve been stated as the sole inheritor in her will until this point. And, uh, this is where it gets rather complicated -” he paused again. “She would like me to tell you that she explicitly is, uh, writing you out in the will, and you will be mentioned by name as someone who is under no circumstance, allowed to receive anything of hers, etcetera, etcetera, and that she no longer considers you to be connected to her name in any way, shape, or form.” 

Mal didn’t quite know what to do. Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t this. She shouldn’t be here; she shouldn’t be listening to this. 

“Evie… I’m gonna go outside…” she whispered, backing away slowly, but the other girl’s hand caught her wrist. To Mal’s surprise, she shook her head, holding her there. 

“Who -” Evie cleared her throat, obviously doing her best to make sure it didn’t shake. “Who did she name instead?” 

“Ms. Grimhilde, I am going to insist that you speak with your mother to get a further explanation -” 

“Who. Did. She. Name?” The blue-haired girl’s voice was low and angry now, practically a growl. 

“A gentleman by the name of Chadwick Charming.” 

* * *

 

**~J~**

 

“You’re doing really well,” Carlos smiled. 

Jay couldn’t help smiling back at the praise. The math concepts that Carlos had been teaching him were starting to make a little bit more sense these days, even if he still got many of the practice problems wrong. 

“You’re only making little mistakes now,” the white-haired boy assured him. “You understand the concepts and the steps. You’re just rushing.”  

They’d stopped their session fifteen minutes ago - Jay could only sit still for so long - but the day had been too nice to go home just yet. For a day in early October, the weather was unusually mild. The air was cold, but not painfully so, and now, the boys were walking through the park - stalling.  

“If we go home too early, Mal is gonna make us put away the groceries,” Jay told Carlos with a shake of his head. He knew exactly how lazy that girl could be. “We gotta waste some time.” 

Carlos laughed, and a puff of white air swirled into the air, which only made him laugh again. “I feel like a dragon or something.” He breathed out, watching the cloud that formed happily. 

After a moment, Jay joined him with a chuckle. It was pretty fun. Like smoking without the cancer. By the time they were finished, both boys were out of breath and their noses were pink. 

“By the way, you did well at breakfast today,” Jay commented. “With the whole dishes order thing. I saw the way you wanted to correct Evie, and you forced yourself to take a couple deep breaths and push through.” 

The other boy nodded, looking down. “I still thought about it, though.” 

“Hey,” Jay gave him a little nudge, shoulder the bag of textbooks again. “Not every day can be a good day, dude. You know that.” 

“You should write a book,” Carlos said as they walked past the bare trees standing tall and dark against the blue sky. The park had taken on a wintery shift in the past coming weeks - what with the iced over birth baths and colorful scarves and hats of those brave enough to leave the warm comfort of their homes - and Jay didn’t quite know how to feel. Sure, today was pretty nice, these mild days were numbered. Come December, the heat bill always threatened to eat him and Mal out of house and home. 

“A book?” Jay didn’t like writing period, and he definitely didn’t have the patience to write a whole book. That shit sounded hard. He could barely sit down and do math for forty-five minutes, and only got through it because Carlos was right there. 

“Yeah, of quotes or whatever,” Carlos laughed. “You said it yourself, you’re pretty fucking insightful.” 

“Only to you.” Jay wasn’t sure if Carlos’ cheeks got pinker from the comment or the cold, but either way it was cute. Feeling rather bold suddenly, he blew on his hands some. “Geez, my fingers feel like ice,” he said slyly. And it was true, they were kind of cold, but warmth would only be a happy benefit if Carlos took the bait.

“Let me feel.” The other boy reached out, and as soon as his hands had closed around Jay’s, he stopped walking, a sheepish little smile forming. “You fucker.” 

And Jay cracked up. “You fell for it.” 

“And you,” Carlos grinned. “Are the absolute worst, you know that?” But he didn’t let go of Jay’s hand, even when they started walking again. He even intertwined their fingers to make sure Jay couldn’t pull away. And Jay definitely didn’t want to, anyway. He felt proud, lucky, almost, to have this guy next to him. 

“You know, you’re getting better with touch, too,” Jay told him, avoiding an icy puddle. “I’m really impressed.” He’d asked Carlos the other day if he minded talking about these things, but the other boy had shaken his head. Apparently, it helped to bring it up every now and then. 

“Only with you,” Carlos echoed, repeated Jay’s line from earlier. 

“I’m serious!” 

“So am I.” The other boy smiled up at him, his blonde hair just peeking out from under one of Jay’s beanies that he was wearing. He’d been wearing it straight when he and Jay were working the streets, just like they’d agreed, but when it was just the two of them, the curls often made an appearance. And Jay loved it. Straight-haired Carlos was badass and hacked the whole city and made annoying, smug little comments into the phone that made him snort and lose his train of thought, but curly-haired Carlos was softer, a little more vulnerable, like when he first woke up in the morning and his voice was still hoarse. Jay liked both versions. He just liked Carlos, if he was being totally truthful. 

“You know,” Carlos laughed. “I saw that new video game everyone’s been playing is finally online…  maybe we can go get it.”

“With cash or without cash?” Jay knew Mal wouldn’t be too happy about wasting precious rent money on video games. 

“Well,” Carlos laughed. “I might be able to download it for free.” 

“Like you downloaded that movie last night ‘for free’?” Jay grinned, remembering how good the other boy was at getting illegal movies. And not the shaky, bad quality ones online, either. Or the ones with strange spanish subtitles or mirrored displays like he and Mal had grown used to watching over the years.  

“Yeah, something like that.” They kept walking, Carlos swinging their arms just a little bit. “So I was thinking…” 

“Mmmm, dangerous,” Jay teased. 

“Depends.” The white-haired boy tried to pull a serious face, but ended up smiling anyway. “But don’t worry, I think the world is safe this time. I wasn’t thinking about anything too crazy.”  

“Yeah?” Jay couldn’t help grinning again. He liked watching Carlos laugh. “So, what were you thinking about?” 

“My mom.” He held up his free hand. “And I know what you’re gonna say, and I’m not obsessing, I promise. I just….” 

Jay nodded, but said nothing. It wasn’t his place to tell him to stop fearing her, especially not when Carlos still woke up crying in the middle of the night when he thought no one could hear. 

“When she gets home from the spa, I’m going to have to start staying at home again.” Carlos kicked a rock and it skittered across the pavement, coming to a stop at the food of a trash can with a dull metallic clang.

“The spa… that’s the weird massage retreat she goes to, right?” Jay recalled discussing it briefly. “Where she goes every once and awhile?” 

“For the last few weeks of summer, yeah,” Carlos sighed softly. “But now she’s coming back tomorrow and then - I’m gonna have chores, and I won’t be able to -” 

“Hey.” Jay squeezed his hand gently, hating the way Carlos’ shoulders fell. It reminded him too much of the hopelessness he used to see in Mal back before they’d run away. “We’ll deal with that, okay? I’m not going to let you stay there again permanently, with no escape. It’s been nice to see you without black eyes, and your stitches healed up nicely, didn’t they?” 

“She’ll come after me.” The white-haired boy shook his head. “She will come. She’ll find us. I have to go back.” 

“Okay.” Jay nodded. “I get that. So, we’ll figure out another way. I’ll help you with your chores. We’ll get you out through a window or something at night and back again in the morning. We can do that, Carlos. We can.”  

Carlos looked very unsure.  “You’re gonna do that? Every night? Jay, come on. This… this has been great, but I know what will happen. One night… you just won’t come. And I’ll wait, and wait, and -” 

“Hey, de Vil?” Jay turned so the other boy could look him right in the eye. “I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t leave you with that woman. What if we go over there now and inspect the place, huh? That way we know exactly how to get you out.” 

And even though the skepticism was still very much apparent, Carlos nodded. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. It’s a long walk, though.” 

Mal had forced the two boys to trek on foot the library that morning, claiming she and Evie “needed the car more,” which Jay highly doubted. But it was her day to drive the thing, so it was only fair. That was the problem with only having one car and four people needing to use it. But complaining wouldn't get them to Hell Hall any faster, so Carlos and Jay left the park and started on their way.

The conversation moved back to lighter things: the latest pro sports scores, what they were gonna have for lunch, and whether the first snow would come in November or December. 

“Remember that one year we had that blizzard?” Carlos shivered, and squeezed Jay’s warm hand tighter. “The snow completely covered my mom’s car.” 

“I bet she had you scrape it off, huh?” Jay could read between the lines; he knew how all these stories ended. 

“Without gloves,” Carlos confessed. “I couldn't move my hands for the rest of the day.”

“Yikes.” Jay let the conversation lull for a moment before giving the other boy a reassuring smile. “Well, I can promise you that we’ll all be scraping the car off this year.” 

“Even Mal?” 

And Jay laughed. Because it was funny, really, how quickly Carlos had caught on. Or maybe Mal was really just that lazy. “Even Mal. We’ll force her. Shove her downstairs and lock her out until she’s done her fair share.”  The two boys shared a knowing look, and burst out laughing, their breath still making clouds in front of them. 

Hell Hall was just as big and scary and formidable as ever, and by the time the two boys had made it up to the garage and Carlos had let him inside, Jay was dying for something to drink. 

“You got anything good, bro?” Jay glanced in the fridge. 

“You won’t find anything in there.” Carlos looked a little regretful. “Haven’t done any shopping in a few weeks. I’ve been kinda busy.” 

“Mmm, hot date?” Jay just couldn’t resist. 

The white-haired boy perked up a little, a wicked little gleam showing up in his eyes. “A solid four.” 

“Hey!” 

“Four and a half.” Carlos gave him a little smile to show that he was kidding, but the gleam had yet to disappear. “He hasn’t kissed me yet, though.” 

At that, Jay’s mouth went dry. He’d wanted nothing more than to kiss Carlos, but he was playing the waiting game. Waiting for the time to be right. For the other boy to initiate. Licking his lips slightly, he forced his voice to remain level. “Well… maybe he’s just waiting for the right moment.” 

“Hmm.” The shorter boy gave him a little, amused smile and turned towards one of the hallways stretching away into the darkness. Why weren’t there more lights in this house? Did Cruella just enjoy living in the darkness? 

_ Probably. The creep.  _

“Um, listen, I can go to my room and meet you back here?” Carlos pointed into the darkness. His first response was to protest - there was no way he would let Carlos wander this house alone - but then he caught a glimpse of the look on his face - his forehead wrinkled in concern, his eyes dulled - and Jay realized he was looking at the Old Carlos - the trapped, hopeless one who had fixed his car.

“Yeah, okay.” Jay nodded. “You don’t want me back there, is that right?” 

Carlos huffed some, shaking his head. “You probably don’t wanna see my room anyway. It’s not exactly -” 

“Dude, I used to sleep on the floor as a kid on a carpet under some shelves.” Jay hadn’t spoken that sentence in years, and now, it hovered in the damp coolness of the hall. He wished he could take it back. 

But something seemed to change in Carlos’ stance. He straightened up and took Jay’s hand again - without playing little tricks to get there - and began to lead Jay down the hall. “I changed my mind,” he said when Jay looked at him questioningly. “You should come.” 

Carlos felt along the wall, finally pulling a string and causing a dim light bulb to buzz to life.  Jay didn’t know why, but the faint noise somehow made the place eerier. He glanced up at the ceiling and wasn’t comforted by the cobwebs and strange markings there. 

“This place is intense.” Jay looked around. “You’ve lived here your whole life?” 

“Yes.” Carlos placed his hand on a doorknob. “Okay, you gotta stick close to me. She likes to, um, place traps in here to keep people out. But I know the safe way.” 

Jay only understood about half of that, but he stuck close to Carlos anyway. The door opened into a closet, and the dark-haired boy quickly realized that coats were hung on almost every available rack. Fur coats. Carlos pointed to the floor, and Jay noticed that he hadn't been exaggerating about the alarm system. Actual bear traps littered the floor, waiting to snap their rusty metal jaws onto some poor, unsuspecting person’s leg. 

“Oh, you weren't kidding about the whole trap thing.” Jay hoped he didn’t sound too surprised. 

 “I wish.” Carlos started counting under his breath, and Jay realized he was counting steps. “Three forward… two to the right… five forward… come on, Jay follow me. Step where I step.” 

“How did you figure this out?” Jay asked when the reached the end. The pattern seemed arbitrary, random. How on earth did the freckled boy remember which steps were good and which ended in, well, a bloody mess.

In response, Carlos pulled up a pant leg to reveal a long, white scar. “Trial and error.” 

Carlos led him out another door in the back of the closet - one that opened up into a small little dressing room. The ceiling was slanted, the walls were unfinished, and aside from the wigs and ironing boards, there didn’t seem to be much else in the room. Jay almost asked Carlos where the hell he’d taken them when he noticed the pile of blankets on the floor in the corner, and he kicked himself for not putting it together sooner.

“Hey, at least this is sort of a bedroom, right?” Jay gestured to the walls and the door. “I didn’t even have a door.”

The white-haired boy didn’t look too reassured, but he smiled thinly, showing Jay that he at least appreciated the attempt to lighten the mood. “No windows, though,” Carlos sighed. “I don’t know how you’re gonna get me out of here.” 

“Does she lock you in?” Jay surveyed the place, feeling along the walls, wondering if this really was a dead end. 

“Used to.” Carlos watched, shaking his head. “I think she’s forgetting these days; her mind is even more messed up now, believe it or not.” 

“So you never found a way out? 

The other boy shook his head grimly. “Like I said, she’s got the place sealed up. Besides, she’d find me anyway. Even if I did manage to get out back then, she would’ve just punished me. There were way worse things than a locked door.” 

“Okay,” Jay said, almost hitting his head on a low-hanging shelf. “Okay, what if we simplified this whole thing. What if instead, I come to you? Do you have a key to the front door?” 

Carlos shook his head. “Yes, but… there’s an alarm.”

Jay grinned. “Well,  _ if  _ I were a thief, I’d know how to get past alarms like that, and  _ if  _ I did, I would be more than willing to disarm it for us with a simple trick.” 

“Sounds like you’ve done this before.” For a moment, Carlos looked like he might actually laugh. Jay considered it a win. 

“Maybe.” 

Carlos fidgeted with Jay’s beanie, sliding it off his head and into his hands. His curls stuck out in every direction. “I could get in so much trouble.” 

“Yeah.” Jay wasn’t going to deny it. If Carlos’ mother found out, she’d punish him for sure. But if she didn’t find out… “I’ll leave the decision up to you. If you think it’s worth the risk, I’ll come visit you during the day when I can and stay with you at night. I’ll leave before your mother wakes up. And if you decide its too much, then I won’t hold it against you.” 

He expected Carlos to smile or nod, but instead, the boy’s knees gave out and he sank onto the pile of blankets. And even though his face was hidden, Jay could see his shoulders begin to shake. 

“Pup?” He knelt down, trying not to crowd him. “Hey… what’s wrong?” But Carlos didn’t answer. In fact, he was silent. Jay had never heard someone cry without making any noise at all. He’d only seen Mal cry a few times in her life, and she hated being touched while it happened. She always preferred him to pretend nothing out of the ordinary had happened until she regained her composure. Maybe Carlos felt the same way. So Jay sat back on his heels and waited, carefully averting his eyes. 

“It’s all the fucking charity,” Carlos choked. “I don’t need it. I don’t - you’re too nice, no one is this nice -” 

Jay knew that feeling. He and Mal always felt uncomfortable when their teachers or other adults used to ask about their “home lives” or give them extensions on assignments. He remembered all too well the way the kid in front of him had protested the day of their big English project, and how his teacher had just smiled and told the class that Jay got a little bit more time for special reasons. He remembered how weird it had made him feel. How he wished he’d been treated just like everyone else. He wasn’t special. He didn’t need any extensions or special arrangements. 

“Carlos?” Jay took a deep breath. “Dude, why don’t you just meet me when you can, alright? You just text me when she isn’t home or when it works for you. And we can meet up.” 

The freckled boy’s shoulders still shook terribly, and he had yet to look up from his hands. “O-okay.” 

“Yeah, and that way, you don’t have to worry about me coming over in the middle of the night, yeah?” It was best, for now at least. This was his fault. He’d been moving too fast, giving too much to a boy who wasn’t used to getting anything at all. “I think I’m gonna head out, alright, ‘Los? That way you can get ready for your mom to come home, recharge, have some time to yourself. That sound good?” 

Jay began to move away slowly. He wasn’t angry or hurt at Carlos’ response. Even if they had put away some time for quiet moments back at the apartment, it wasn’t anything like true solitude. And as someone who’d been on his own for most of his life, Jay understood the need for quiet, personal time. He didn’t expect Carlos to respond - he didn’t really need to - but to his surprise, Carlos reached out jerkily and grabbed his shirt, pulling him close. 

_ Holy shit, he’s kissing me.  _

Carlos was kissing him. His lips were salty from the tears and somewhat chapped, but Jay’s heart was too busy stuttering to care. Carlos was kissing him, finally, and it was all he could do to just kiss back. He closed his eyes, reaching out to hold onto the other boy and find his shoulder. It was pretty quick, mostly closed-mouth kiss, but when Carlos finally retreated, Jay had to catch his breath anyway. 

_ Holy shit.  _

* * *

 

**~C~**

 

He didn’t know why he’d done it. 

Actually, that wasn’t true. Carlos knew exactly why he’d kissed Jay.  

_ Because I wanted to.  _

He knew his eyes were red, could taste the salty tears in his mouth, and yet, he felt some sort of - satisfaction? relish?  

_ So there. I kissed him. What are you gonna do about it that, Mom?  _

Jay looked a little taken aback - he probably hadn’t expected that - but not angry. Which was good. Carlos definitely didn’t want Jay to be angry, especially not after all the good things he’d said and done. He spoke the feelings Carlos could never put into words, had never dared try. He knew when to give him space and when to challenge him. And even if Carlos didn’t trust it, even if Carlos kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, he didn’t want Jay to leave. He didn’t want to stay here in this dark, dusty house and watch one of his only friends (or was he more now?) walk away. 

So he’d kissed him. 

And now he waited. And watched. And prayed Jay would stop staring at him like that. 

“Say something,” he burst out finally, chewing on his bottom lip - the same one that had been pressed against Jay’s a moment ago. 

“You’re a pretty good kisser.” Jay’s voice was hoarse and quiet. “Even if it was kinda salty.” He laughed, almost nervously, and Carlos wondered how someone like Jay could sit there and be anxious. He oozed sexuality; he practically ran off dirty jokes and innuendos. Was he really that nervous over a simple kiss? 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” Jay smiled weakly, pushing his hair back. “Um, I… I’m sorry, I wasn't… wow.” 

“Why are you nervous?” Carlos couldn’t help it. He had to ask. He had to know why Jay had any reason to be shaken up, other than the spontaneousness of it all.

“Because,” Jay cleared his throat. “It’s easier to pretend you like someone to snag their watch or their necklace than it is to actually like someone. And I really don’t wanna fuck this up. Sorry if that’s too sentimental or something.” 

“Not more sentimental than kissing you unexpectedly,” Carlos offered with a soft smile in return, wiping his cheeks. He hadn’t really stopped crying, and now he laughed through the tears. “I’m sorry, God, I’m the biggest mess right now.” 

“Nah, dude, it’s chill.” Jay took a deep breath, and Carlos followed suit. It seemed like a good idea. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” Jay’s eyes had housed a faraway look in them, but now, they cleared slightly and focused right on Carlos. “Fuck, man.” 

“I know.” Carlos shook his head, still dabbing at his eyes in a fruitless attempt to stop the tears from coming. “Our first kiss, and I was crying through the whole thing.” 

“Ah, screw the first.” Jay made a bold attempt at sounding like his usual, nonchalant self. “We’ve got a bunch more to perfect the technique.” 

_ He didn’t hate it. He wants to kiss me again.  _

Suddenly, he remembered what Jay had said earlier in the kitchen. “Was this the right moment? To kiss, I mean?” 

“Well, you initiated it, so yeah.” Jay smiled some. “If it had been up to me, we would’ve locked lips weeks ago.” 

Carlos swatted his arm playfully, sniffing some. “You dick! Why did I have to start the kiss?! You could’ve been waiting years just because I’m a motherfucking coward!” 

“But I didn’t wait years,” the dark-haired boy laughed. “And you proved you weren’t a coward.” 

“That doesn’t prove anything.” Carlos shook his head. “I was too scared to tell you to stay, so I kissed you instead. If anything, it confirms it.” He felt Jay’s hand on his shoulder, and when he looked up, Jay was smiling. 

“You wanted me to stay?” 

“Yeah,” Carlos sniffed again. “I did. I do.” 

Jay looked like he was trying not to smile. “Well… then let’s get out of this house, okay? It’s got bad vibes.” 

“Try living here.” Carlos let the taller boy help him to his feet, and if he didn’t let go of his hand afterword, Jay was diplomatic enough not to mention it.  “It’s colder in this room than it is out on the streets.” 

“I think it’s the cobwebs,” Jay deadpanned. 

They left Hell Hall without looking back. Carlos had never really thought of that place as “home.” It was his house, sure. It was where he worked and where he slept. But he’d always felt a rush of relief leaving it, and a whole heap of dread returning - which definitely wasn’t supposed to happen when you had a home. And he knew he should be grateful that he didn’t have to sleep on the street like Jay and Mal did for awhile, but no matter how hard he tried, Carlos just couldn’t call the hellish place anything else. 

“We didn’t figure out what to do about my mom.” Carlos hated bringing the topic back up, but kissing Jay hadn’t erased their earlier issue. “I have to go home. I have to go shopping and do the laundry and clean the kitchen and -” 

“I know.” Jay exhaled deeply, glancing over at him. “And you’re going to. Until we think of a way to get you out of there for good, you can go home as often as you need. I’m just a phone call away whenever she’s out or you’re free.” 

Free. That was something Carlos didn’t think he’d ever be. But Jay had already been so accommodating he could hardly bring himself to say it out loud. As terrified as he was of breaking his mother’s rules, he would be willing to risk it for Jay. Maybe. After all, kissing him again would be nice, especially since it seemed Jay liked the first one as much as he did. Thinking about kissing Jay only raised more questions, though. First and foremost - what happened next. 

Carlos cleared his throat a few times and hoped his cheeks weren’t too pink. “Does this make us - you know -” 

“A thing?” The corner of Jay’s mouth twitched a little. “Haven’t we always sort of been?” 

And maybe he was right. They had been sleeping in the same bed at night, and Carlos sometimes wore Jay’s clothes, and besides Evie, Jay was the only one he trusted to hold him or ruffle his hair. 

“Do you want to be a thing?” Jay said it nonchalantly, but Carlos could tell he was waiting almost anxiously for the answer. All of Carlos’ lapses into thought must’ve scared him a little. 

“I think so.” Carlos wet his bottom lip with his tongue. “I mean - I’ve never been anyone’s boyfriend before -”

“You wanna be my boyfriend?” Now Jay had stopped walking altogether, abandoning all pretenses of being cool and collected. 

“Isn’t that the same as a ‘thing’?” Carlos asked, raising an eyebrow. He kind of liked the way Jay was looking at him, like he was hoping against hope. “Boyfriends? Thing?” 

“No, it’s not the same.” Jay blinked several times, then - without warning - burst out laughing. “Christ, de Vil, we can be boyfriends if you want. That’s even better.” 

“I still don’t understand!” Carlos shook his head, still confused. Jay’s laughter didn’t feel mean though, and that comforted him. “It’s the same damn thing.” 

“No way. A thing is like…” Jay looked a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s like… a step-up from a one-time lay, you know? You aren’t committing, aren’t labeling, just… taking it slow. And fuck, I’d much rather be your boyfriend, but I didn’t want to come on too strong -” 

“I’ve been sleeping in your bed.” 

And Jay laughed again, the evidence of his mirth swirling into the cold air as white puffs. “I guess that’s pretty strong. But you wanna be boyfriends, right?” 

And Carlos realized he did. More than anything. He was terrified, of course (but when wasn’t he?). “Yeah. Let’s do it.” 

And he swore Jay’s smile lit up the whole street. They were still holding hands, walking side by side. There was a new energy between them, but not entirely unwelcome. Mostly, Carlos felt an enormous sense of relief - like a weight had lifted from his chest. At least he hadn’t shied away this time; at least he’d told Jay the truth. 

In fact, Carlos felt so light he was practically skipping by the time they rounded the next corner, passing alongside a wooden fence. The floaty feeling didn’t last long. Without warning, something behind the fence began barking loud enough to shake it off its hinges, and Carlos felt a scream begin and die in his throat as his whole body froze. The wooden slats were going to fall; the dog trapped behind would be released; it would come for his throat; he wouldn’t be able to run; he would - 

“‘Los! ‘Los! Carlos, hey, hey, walk with me, shit.” 

Vaguely, he registered Jay’s voice trying to pull him away from the dog, felt hands gently taking him farther down the street. It didn’t matter. The fence was shaking; it would fall -

“Woah, woah, hey.” Jay had coaxed him to the next block, far away from the barking - almost too far to even hear it. “It’s gone now. We left it. It’s gone.” 

And Carlos took his first semi-full breath. His vision cleared some as they stood there, but his hands and legs were shaking. Jay seemed to be saying lots of things, but he only understood about half of it. Eventually, he felt Jay guide him to the curb where they sat. 

“I’m sorry,” Carlos finally gasped. 

“What for?” Jay shrugged. “It’s all good. It came out of nowhere.” 

“It’s so stupid.” The freckled boy shook his head, trying to find the rational part of his brain again - the one he usually relied so heavily upon. “There - there was a fence. It wasn’t… gonna fall.” 

“Dude,” Jay looked at him. “Plenty of people would’ve been startled by that.” 

Startled was putting it lightly, but Carlos appreciated the gesture. They sat for a few more minutes, with Carlos scuffing his heels against the pavement and listening to his heartbeat thud in his ears before he decided he could walk the rest of the way home. It was too cold to sit there for very long anyway. 

“So, you’re really freaked out by dogs, huh?” Jay said as started on their way again. 

Carlos nodded. “It’s - it’s kind of a trigger.” 

Jay sucked in a breath. “Did I press it too much? Oh, shit, I’m -” 

“No, no.” He’d been scared witless, sure, but it hadn’t been Jay’s fault. “And I take it you’re not afraid of them?” 

“I’m not afraid of anything.” 

It was probably a lie. 

Now, the cold wasn’t quite so enchanting. The temperature had dropped and the fairer weather from earlier had descended into downright frigid conditions. Carlos’ fingers were numb and he could barely feel his toes even though he was wearing socks. The air that they’d enjoyed puffing out together earlier just reminded him of how freezing he was. But Carlos wouldn’t complain, not even for a second. He could handle a little cold. Besides, Jay’s nose and cheeks had gotten a bit red from the harsh weather, and he liked taking little glances to watch as they walked. He’d never seen the older boy blush, but he thought it might look something like that. By the time they arrived home, however, a bitter wind had picked up and both boys were very grateful to step inside. 

“This weather is brutal. Can we turn on the heat this early or -” Jay suddenly broke off. 

“What? Jay what is it?” Carlos peered around his shoulder, and what he saw made his heart sink. Evie was crying. 

“Evie, take the damn tissue,” Mal huffed without turning around. “And Jay, shut the fucking door if it’s so damn cold.” 

“She’s crying,” Jay said slowly, coming inside. 

“What a helpful observation.” The purple-haired girl gave him a sarcastic smile. “You wanna observe some other things for me? Like my hair is purple? Or maybe that her hair is blue?” 

“Mal, what happened?” Carlos went over to Evie, who was trying to wave them off. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Evie sniffed, finally dabbing at her face with a tissue. “I shouldn’t care, I don’t care. Really!” 

“Her mother disowned her.”

“No, she didn’t.” Evie laughed, even if it sounded suspiciously like a sob to Carlos. “I’m eighteen; she doesn’t really have legal rights anymore anyway. She just wrote me - wrote me out of her will.” 

Jay frowned. “She did what?” 

“Gave everything to Chad Charming!” Evie sniffed, shaking her head. “That’s what she did. And I don’t care.” 

Carlos couldn’t help staring some. If her mother had gone off and given everything to Chad, it meant that she knew something was up. “Evie, your mother must’ve figured out you aren’t dating him anymore.” 

“Wait, is Charming her ex?” Jay looked very confused, but Carlos needed answers before he could help Jay with his questions. The freckled boy rubbed Evie’s shoulders, his previous inquiry still hanging in the air. 

“I don’t know, Carlos!” Evie blinked, finally taking the tissue Mal waved in front of her face.  “You’ve been photoshopping pictures of us in New York, and you’re a damn good photoshopper. He’s not supposed to be back in town, yet!” 

“I thought you dumped him?” Jay frowned, and Carlos wished he could elbow him without Evie noticing. Sometimes, the older boy just…  _ said  _ things. Anything. Without thinking. “Didn’t you guys like bang and then -” 

“Jay!” Mal finally hissed, folding her arms. “I told you that this was sensitive, remember?”

Carlos stiffened, hoping a fight wasn’t about to break out between the two of them. Mal’s tone - while necessary - was harsh. And Jay didn’t seem like the type of guy to lie down and take it. 

“Look,” Jay huffed, straightening up. “So she had sex with him. We’ve all done shit we wish we hadn’t done. You were safe, right, Eves? He didn’t force you to do it? So it was bad sex. You grimace and move on. I don’t get what the big deal is. He’s an ass. There are a lot of assholes out there. You live and you learn.” 

“That’s - that’s not the point.” Evie rubbed the side of her face, and Carlos held her shoulders tighter. 

“You don’t have to explain,” Mal interrupted, still glaring at Jay. “You don’t have to explain if it’s -” 

“No, it’s okay.” Evie didn’t sound angry, just tired. “He should know.” She looked off for awhile, adjusting her skirt absentmindedly. “When I was younger, I used to read a lot. Mom only ever had those super trashy romance novels lying around, and I’d practically memorized them by the time I was fourteen. They always described falling in love and being intimately adored so… perfectly. The books said it was good and loving and satisfying and… I didn’t feel any of that with Chad. My first time, and I felt nothing. I couldn’t wait for it to be over. And I felt so… slutty and stupid, thinking it could be so perfect. He’s a selfish person, a selfish lover, and… I only agreed to date him in the first place because he’s rich, and my mom said he’d be a good ‘leg up’. Whatever that means.” 

Carlos listened and turned slowly, staring at Jay. His face was void of emotion save for a hint of - was that shame? 

“Sex isn’t perfect, Princess,” Jay said finally. Mal looked ready to throw something, but he held up his hand. “Wait. I’m not done. Sex isn’t perfect. It’s not gonna ever be perfect, no matter who you’re with. But it should be something you feel good about doing.”

“I thought I could make him different,” Evie confessed quietly. “I thought I could make him my prince.” 

Jay ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. “Look, I’m sorry that I’ve been joking around about you and Chad lately, okay? Won’t do it again. It’s been awhile since I used sex as anything other than a tool.” 

Carlos mulled that over for awhile. He thought it was pretty big of Jay to apologize, even if it hadn’t been the smoothest thing in the world. Then again, Carlos was starting to understand that Jay’s clumsy, choppy self was maybe his most authentic one. 

“Thank you, Jay.” Evie gave him a weak smile. “Now he’s got my virginity and my mother’s estate, so.”

“First of all,” Mal said, tossing her head. “Virginity is a fucking social construct. Fight the fucking power. Second - I’ll beat his ass, murder him, and then we can steal the money back.” 

“Does someone other than Mal have any ideas here?” Jay looked around, making eye contact with Carlos a little urgently. Carlos figured there was a fifty-fifty chance that Mal really would chase Chad down and beat the shit out of him if they turned their backs on her for half a second. Not that he didn’t want to see the guy brought to justice, but the last thing Mal needed was his blood on her hands. 

“Okay, let’s think for a second.” Carlos knit his eyebrows together. “There’s no way this is a coincidence. Evie, your mother is using this as a punishment. Chad must be back in town and somehow, she caught wind that you definitely weren’t in New York with him.” 

“He hasn’t posted anything, right?” Mal asked, and Evie shook her head. Carlos didn’t see why that mattered. 

“People don’t always post when they get  _ back  _ from vacation,” he told them, grabbing his laptop. “I’m gonna see if I can track his cell signal.” His fingers flew across the keyboard with little hesitation. “I figured out how to do this one time when Evie didn’t show up to Hell Hall like she said she would. I never liked him anyway. You deserved so much better, Evie.” 

“Thanks,” Evie smiled softly, turning to kiss his cheek. “You’ve always seen the best in me, I suppose.” 

“Wait, Carlos, you’ve met this dude?” Jay asked. 

“Yes. He’s a dick.” Carlos remembered the way he’d sneered and smiled and pretended that Carlos couldn’t hear him when he said things like ‘I think the servant boy’s taken up enough of our time.’ “He lives off Maine Avenue, right, Evie?” 

“Yeah.” She watched over his shoulder. “Is he there?” 

“Yup.” 

“Shoot.” Evie rubbed the side of her face again. 

Mal whipped her head around, her eyes narrow. “Shoot?  _ Shoot,  _ princess _?  _ You can cuss! Fucking say it. It’ll make you feel better.” 

“No. It’s not the way I was raised.” The blue-haired girl took a deep breath. “Carlos, I think need to go over to my mother’s house and talk to her. See if she’ll see sense.” 

“She won’t.” Carlos hoped she wouldn’t go. Evie had just started to eat a little bit more, to not stare critically in the mirror every time she passed one. “She won’t see sense, and you’ll be angrier than before. If she wants nothing to -” 

Evie sighed. “ I need to risk it. She’s my mom.” 

“And she doesn’t want anything to do with you!” Carlos didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, but it wasn’t a false statement. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have his mother suddenly stop getting involved in his life. He’d be free; he’d be happy. It was the kind of thing he prayed for, wished for, begged for. His mother always made him feel so guilty for leaving, even for a few hours - like everything wrong with her world was somehow his fault. If she just suddenly… stopped caring… he would run so far she’d never ever be able to follow. “Just take it and run Evie. You’ve already changed so much - emotionally and physically- just look in the mirror. I don’t think she’ll like -” 

“Well, I’m going.” Evie grabbed her purse. “I have to. Don’t you see?” 

He didn’t. He really, truly didn’t. But he recognized the look in Evie’s eyes. There was no stopping her now. 

* * *

 

**~E~**

 

“Why are you here, Mal?” Evie hadn’t turned around, but she knew the purple-haired girl was following her to the car. “This isn’t your battle.” 

“Well, you’re apart of our team, aren’t you?” Mal challenged. “And so then it is my battle. Besides, I don’t trust this woman.” 

“She’s my mother!” Evie turned around, putting her hands on her hips. “And even if she wasn’t perfect, she’s still the woman who held me! Who heard my first words! Saw my first steps!” 

“Evie, witnessing those things doesn’t make a person a mother!” Mal’s eyes flashed angrily, but Evie got the feeling that the anger wasn’t directed towards her. 

“I know that your familial situation was bad.” Evie lowered her voice, hoping Mal wouldn’t mind that she’d brought it up. “But I only have one parent. This one. And she -” 

“Same here!” Mal’s gaze intensified, and her stare bored into Evie unflinchingly. “I lived with my mother too, Evie! It was her and me until I left. Because she was never, ever going to be the woman I wanted her to be.” 

“My mother is different.” Evie believed the words wholeheartedly. She had to. She couldn’t accept it any other way. Her mother had never hit her, had never abused her like Carlos’ did. Which meant that she had nothing to complain about. “I’m going to see her. You can come or you can stay.” With that, she climbed up into the driver’s seat. Mal stayed still for  a moment, but eventually followed. 

“You’re coming?” Evie tried not to show how surprised she was. She’d definitely expected Mal to walk away. 

“Yes.” The purple-haired girl stared straight ahead. “Even if I think you’re making a major mistake, I’m not gonna bail on you.” 

“But you have to stay in the car,” she warned. “Mal, please? You can’t come inside.” 

“Fine. Just drive, Princess.” 

It didn’t take all that long to get there, but for Evie, it felt like an eternity. She kept playing and replaying possible scenarios in her head. It was almost eight, which meant her mother would definitely be home: she didn’t like to miss her favorite eight p.m. programming with the reruns of old modeling competitions and other reality shows. Maybe this had all been a mistake. Maybe her mother had expected that she and Chad would get married someday and had been preparing. Or maybe her lawyer had misunderstood. 

_ Or maybe,  _ a tiny, traitorous voice whispered.  _ Mal is right.  _

But Evie silenced the voice and soldiered on. When she finally pulled up to the house, she couldn’t help glancing over at Mal as she shut the engine off. Why had she come? What was the point? To swoop in and save her? To tell her ‘I told you so’ when she failed? 

“I won’t fail,” Evie muttered. 

“Alright.” Mal sounded unconvinced. “But you should probably -” 

“Mal, I’ll be fine!” 

The walk up the driveway, if possible, took longer than the actual car ride. Evie’s heels echoed on the cement, and she was sure her mother would hear before she even knocked on the door. But nobody came outside or looked out the window. In fact, her mother didn’t even answer her knock on the door. Evie tried the handle, and when it turned, she caught her breath. It was unlocked. 

“Mom?” Evie called, stepping inside. It was her house; it should’ve been recognizable, familiar. Why did it feel so shadowy? “Hey, Mom, are you here?” 

There was noise coming from the living room, and light spilled into the hallway, so she drifted towards it. Everything felt so eerily different, like she hadn’t spent eighteen years walking these halls and staring at these floors. 

When she peeked around the corner of the living room, Evie saw her mother standing in front of the TV drinking a glass of champagne. She had once thought her mother was the most beautiful woman in the world, but in this light, even Evie could see the strange tucks and pinching from all her plastic surgeries. Age really didn’t look good on anyone, she decided, and Evie was about to open her mouth again, when her mother spoke up. 

“Genevieve, please don’t loiter in the hallway. Come in confidently.” Her eyes hadn’t left the screen. 

Taking a moment to collect herself, Evie smoothed her skirt and fussed with her hair before stepping into the living room. “Hello, Mom. I -” 

“So it’s true.” Only now did Evie’s mother even give her a sideways glance. 

“What’s true?” Evie fretted for a second, trying to decide what it was that her mother had already figured out from just those few words. And then, she caught a glimpse of herself in the window. With the darkness outside, it perfectly reflected her blue hair in all its glory.  “Oh my God…” She’d forgotten, she’d totally forgotten. And Mal and Carlos had both tried to warn her, and she’d brushed them off. 

“You really have snapped, haven’t you?” Evie’s mother sighed heavily, shaking her head. 

“Is this why you wrote me out of your will?” Evie couldn’t help it, and her voice shrank to a whisper. 

“For this?” Her mother reached out a hand and tugged on the curls, laughing. “Oh, please. I could fix this mess in five minutes. No, Genevieve. That is most certainly not the reason.” She went back to the TV, sipping her champagne. 

“Well, what was it?” If it wasn’t the hair - “Chad? Is it because of him?” 

“You mean the boy who hasn’t heard from you in months?” Evie’s mother laughed again. “Did you think our paths wouldn’t cross? That I’d somehow just believe all your little stories? He said you haven’t spoken to him since your last date, which must be impossible because you’ve been spending  _ so  _ much time together.” 

“Mom!” Evie’s patience finally ran out. She hated the sweet, patronizing tone her mother used. “Just tell me!” 

Finally, her mother switched off the TV. “You are a living embodiment of sin.” 

“Wh-” 

“You asked for the truth, didn’t you?” Her mother set down her glass of champagne and surveyed her daughter. “You’re attracted to girls. Doesn’t it feel wrong? To lust after them? It’s not normal, Genevieve. And I don’t want sinners in my family.” 

“I -” Evie’s voice had failed her. Her mind spun. Her eyes burned. “Mom…” 

“Tell me that it’s not true.” Her mother’s voice offered no sympathy. “Tell me that you don’t thirst after them.” 

Evie thought of Mal and her green eyes and low, hearty laugh. She thought of the way her purple hair fell across the pillow at night when she gave up the bed over and over for Evie to have it. She thought of all the teasing and taunting that Mal put her through, all with that incredibly attractive, thorny little smirk on her face. And the more she thought about it, the tighter her throat became until the idea of forming words was impossible. Her silence was all her mother needed. 

“I thought so.” Her mother shook her head, sighing. “How did you turn out this way? You’ve been corrupted, girl. Corrupted. And I can’t give my fortune and name to a soiled little queer, can I?” 

“Mom.” It came out sounding like a sob. 

“I always suspected that something was wrong with you,” her mother continued. “First, you had that unhealthy obsession with the boy down at Hell Hall, Cruella’s little slave. And I thought that was bad! But then Chadwick said you kept talking about this girl. And one of the women at my salon said she saw you running around town with a purple-haired -” 

“Do you have spies or something?” Evie couldn’t help asking, her voice rising. “You just have people waiting to see me? To tell you where I am?” 

“I know people.” She drew herself up, staring down at Evie in a way that always made her feel so small. “And that’s what I tried to help you create, too, but you just couldn’t be bothered, right? Chadwick had connections, but you snubbed him. I didn’t do that at your age. I  _ made _ connections. I know people who know people, and those people can catch my slutty little daughter running around with the girl toy she’s fascinated with. What, are you done fucking slave boys now? Have you moved onto girls? It’s only natural, I suppose, since sleeping with servants would turn anyone into a dyke. But don’t worry, dearest daughter, you’ll all have a special little place in hell -” 

“Mom, stop!” Evie shook her head. “Please, stop. Listen to me! Just listen to me! Chad Charming was a dick. And Carlos is my friend, and so is Mal. Just friends!”

“Mal.” Evie’s mother let the name roll over her tongue. “Is that the little whores name? How sweet.” 

“You heard through the grapevine that I  _ may _ have been hanging out with a girl, and you go disown me?” Evie shook her head, trying desperately to hold onto some ground, any ground at all. A new realization dawned on her, and she sighed. “You canceled my credit card, too, didn’t you?” 

“Of course I did.” Evie’s mother gave her a withering glare. “What else was I supposed to do? I heard you were holding hands with a girl. And I couldn’t very well have a  _ lesbian  _ associated with me, now could I? What would people say?” 

“Mal is my friend,” Evie whispered desperately. She’d been questioning that fact herself lately; no wonder her mother didn’t buy it. 

“Look me in the face and say that!” 

Evie lifted her eyes, trying to force the words to come. “I’m your daughter,” she finally sniffed. 

“No.” The woman shook her head. “You’re a dyke. Now get out of my house.” 

But Evie was rooted to the spot, staring around the room that was quickly blurring before her eyes. She’d spent Christmases in this room, getting makeup palettes and dresses and - 

“Come on, Evie,” a different voice coaxed, and suddenly, she felt arms pulling her towards the doorway. “Come on. We’re gonna go home.” 

“Mal?” Through her unshed tears, Evie could make out the fuzzy outline of a purple-haired girl. “How -” 

“I didn’t listen,” Mal admitted. “I didn’t wait in the car. Now come on. The boys are waiting at home. I bet they’ll even let you pick the movie.” 

“How dare you!” Evie’s mother hissed. “First you come into my house looking like that, Geneive, and then you bring your cunt of a girlfriend, too?” 

Evie half expected Mal to haul off and punch her, but Mal just gritted her teeth. “The only cunt here is you.” 

The screaming in the living room suddenly escalated, and Evie covered her ears as the shrieking voices of her mother and Mal filled her ears. She didn’t want to be there anymore. She wanted to be alone. No, she wanted to be somewhere quiet. But not alone. Maybe with Mal. Or the boys. Maybe all three. That would be nice. 

“Mal, can we go?” she asked at last, her voice tiny and seconds away from breaking. 

“Yes.” Mal listened, and turned on her heel. When both girls had reached the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder. “You’re just like my mother, Mrs. Grimhilde,” she laughed coldly. “You guys don’t know this, but mistreated things tend to  _ strike back  _ eventually. It’s called karma. And it’ll be fucking sweet when I can come back and give you a fucking taste.” 

Then, Mal grabbed Evie’s hand and pulled her out of the house. 

“You good?” Mal asked, climbing into the driver’s seat but making no moves to start the car. 

“I’m okay. Really.” Evie tried to sound confident, even though she knew Mal could probably see right through it. Tears had started rolling down her cheeks now. “Thank you for coming inside.” 

“Even though you specifically told me not to?” A flicker of Mal’s familiar grin returned, but not enough to soften the anger in her eyes. 

“She’s… she’s a -” 

“Say it.” 

Evie sniffed, her voice barely above a whisper. “She’s a - fucking bitch, Mal. My mom is a bitch. And… she doesn’t… love me.” 

“Nope.” Mal popped the “P”, shaking her head. “She doesn’t. She should meet my mother. I think they’d get on quite nicely.” 

“Mal.” Evie could feel herself crumbling. The things her mother had said burned deep into her chest. Her world had finally caved in; it had been threatening to do so for a long, long time, she understood now, but this time…  it was gone. All gone. 

“You’ve got to stop crying,” Mal ordered, cutting through the panic rising in Evie’s throat. 

Evie blinked several times. How could Mal sit there and say that? She’d heard what her mother had said about them, how she’d looked at her own daughter and forced her out of the house. “I don’t - I don’t get -” 

“You’ve got to stop crying,” Mal repeated without wavering. “She’s not worth it. She’s not. You let her win. You just let her walk all over you and make you cry.” That only made Evie feel worse, but Mal apparently wasn’t done. “You need to save your tears for later. For when you’re alone, and the dust has settled.” 

“How?” Evie wiped her cheeks hurriedly, wondering how the other girl made it sound so simple. 

“You learn.”

“Have you learned?” Evie marveled with another sniff, briefly distracted by the sudden realization. She’d hardly ever seen Mal emote at all, except anger, maybe, and this was why. “Is that why you bury your emotions?” 

“It’s just practice, E.” The purple-haired girl put her feet up on the dash. “It’s all practice. Trust me, it’ll save your life.” 

It sounded like an unhealthy coping mechanism, but Evie figured Mal already knew that.  “There’s no way that’s healthy.” 

Mal laughed, shrugging. “Listen, you can cry when we get home. But this is the battlefield. You can’t cry in front of your enemy.”  

A sudden flush rose to Evie’s cheeks. She’d cried in front of her mother. And it had  looked weak. Stupid. Childish. Her mother thought she’d won. And Evie couldn’t let that happen, not when she’d already lost everything else. 

“I’m going back inside.” 

“ _ What?”  _

Evie opened the door vehemently. “I’m not weak. She needs to know that I’m not weak.” 

“Evie!” Mal followed her, and when Evie turned around, she could see the other girl’s smile resembled something that almost looked like pride. “Go kick her ass.” 

The blue-haired girl found her mother in the same place, nursing the same drink, watching the same show. It was deja vu to the tenth power. 

“Genevieve, get out of my house before I call the authorities -” 

“Shut up.” It felt good. She’d never fought her mother before, never talked back. Ladies weren’t nasty; ladies respected their superiors; ladies followed orders. But Evie was done with all that shit now. 

“What?” Her mother put down her glass once more, folding her arms. “Say it again, Genevieve. I dare you.” 

“Shut up.” And Evie smiled. “I think I like girls. I don’t really know. But I sure as hell don’t care if you care.” 

“You have been written out of every will I will ever make!” her mother shrieked. “You no longer have any familial ties or connections or money! You’re a fucking little slut who -” 

“Who doesn’t belong to you anymore! I waited and waited for you to finally approve of me! But you never will!” Evie wanted to do something more, something dramatic. She wished she had something to give back to her mother like she’d seen in soap operas. 

“I paid for your whole life you ungrateful little wench,” her mother hissed. “The cloth for your clothes, your makeup, your shoes. And you thank me with this? You choose to sin in the darkest, most disgusting -  _ what are you doing, girl?”  _

Evie had stripped off her shirt and was pulling down her skirt, stepping out of her heels. “You’re right. You paid for these.” Her mother only watched in horror until Evie was left standing barefoot and naked in the center of the room. “And I sure as hell don’t want them.” She certainly felt like a dramatic heroine now. Trying to turn like Mal did before, she spun on her heel and left the discarded items in a heap on the floor. 

“You’ve been eating too much!” her mother screamed. In the past, it would’ve stung. And maybe it still did. But Evie wouldn’t feel it until she got home. 

“Like Mal said, karma's gonna come back and kick your ass so fucking hard!” She hoped her voice wasn’t shaking. 

It wasn’t until later, when she was wearing one of Mal’s sweatshirts and being hugged tightly by Jay and Carlos, that she finally started to cry again. Because now, she was off the battlefield. She was  _ home _ . She was bruised and battered and bloody inside, left among the dusty ruins of her life to pick up the pieces.

But she was alive, and she was victorious. 

At least…  for now. 

 

 


	7. Plans and Palpitations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys! sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. for those of you that haven't watched d3 yet, there's no spoilers since this is an au, but i do have several d3 pieces going up very very soon! thanks for all your beautiful comments. they truly make my day.

**~M~**

 

Mal felt like she was pretty up to date on current news. 

She and Jay checked the papers pretty often - more often than other eighteen-year-olds anyway - and she prided herself on having a pretty decent grip on the world. And the headlines were rarely happy, of course. More death, more chaos, more government fuck-ups - she considered herself lucky to break the laws sometimes. 

So when a bit of news finally did shock her, it felt kind of strange. And maybe she was less shocked, and more - resigned. Like she’d known it would be coming, similar to a storm on the radar. 

“It’s her,” Mal whispered, carefully sliding a newspaper clipping in front of Jay a couple weeks after Evie had finally walked out on her mother. They were standing at the kitchen counter with their backs to the table, effectively blocking it from view. 

“Here?” Jay glanced down at the clipped and sighed. “Shit.” 

“She’s having some stupid convention downtown,” Mal continued in a fierce whisper, hoping Carlos and Evie were too absorbed in leafing through the fashion magazines Jay had stolen that morning to overhear. 

“Okay, well we don’t usually go downtown anyway,” Jay rationalized. “So, we just steer clear of it until she’s been elected or whatever.” 

“I don’t want her to be elected!” She’d raised her voice slightly, and now they both glanced back to make sure the other two were still occupied. 

Evie caught sight of her and waved, turning another page. Mal waved back half-heartedly. The blue-haired girl had been a little unsteady since that night at her mother’s house. Mal had noticed her picking at her food a little more than usual and staring critically at her reflecting. The topic was still a sore one, though, so Mal tried to be delicate about how they approached it. And if Jay had been stealing Evie a few extra things or Carlos had offered to paint her nails more often or Mal was a little more affectionate these days, Evie hadn’t said anything. 

“Ooh,” Evie chirped, staring at the new page of her magazine. “Birthstone colors are in this year for sure. Mal, what’s yours?” 

“My what?” The purple-haired girl moved over to make sure the newspaper on the counter was covered. 

“Birthstone, stupid.” Evie help up the page. “There are tons of pretty birthstone necklaces this year. And I know you don’t like jewelry, but it’s fun to look anyway.” 

But if Mal had been feeling a little one edge before, now she really was. But this was Evie, and she didn’t need Mal’s problems on top of her own. “Um, not sure.” 

“Well, when’s your birthday?” 

Taking a quick glance behind at the date on the top of the newspaper, Mal felt her heart stutter some. It was November first, which meant her birthday was only ten days away. She’d stopped celebrating it ages ago. Her mother had never been big on them, and she’d just never seen the point. Why have a day dedicated to you so others could disappoint you? It just didn’t make any sense at all. 

“Mal.” Evie put down the magazine and folded her arms. “What aren’t you telling me? We don’t keep secrets in this house, remember?” 

That couldn’t be farther from the truth. She was sure they all had secrets they hadn’t spilled. She knew Jay did, and probably Carlos, too. And Mal saw the way Evie stared at her food, like she was forcing it down her throat. They all had deep, dark, well-guarded secrets. But, she reminded herself several times, this was just a stupid birthday, and she definitely wanted to get that pouty look off of Evie’s pretty face. There had been enough frowns there to last a lifetime. 

“I don’t really like my birthday,” Mal admitted finally. “It’s just not something I ever celebrate. But it’s next week. The eleventh.” 

“Why don’t you celebrate it?” Evie asked, giving her a soft little smile. “I think it’s nice to be able to celebrate people.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Mal nodded, not adding that it wasn’t nice to be reminded that no one wanted to celebrate you. “But I just never grew up doing it.” 

“Well, you have two birthstones,” Evie informed her with a smile. “Citrine and topaz. And I think they’re perfect stones for you. They’d look great with your skin tone. And, uh, one is blue.” 

Mal caught the implication and raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying that you're my gemstone, E?” 

She blushed, but laughed nonetheless. “Maybe.” 

“That's not the only little secret Mal’s got,” Jay spoke up, holding up the newspaper. 

“Jay!” Mal couldn't believe that he'd just said that after she’d made it pretty clear that they should try and keep it on the down low. He’d never done that to her before. 

“What?” Jay folded his arms, meeting her gaze. “I think Evie is right. They deserve to know what's going on. It’s not just you and me anymore, Dragon. It’s all of us.” 

“Fuck you.” Mal hated it when he was so undeniably right. “Fine. Okay, uh, geez.” She ran a hand through her hair, sighing. “My - mom - may or may not be in town.” 

It had exactly the effect she was expecting. 

“Here?” 

“Shit. Is she after you?” 

“No, no, okay.” Mal paced back and forth for a moment; she couldn’t help it. “It’s fine. She’s just here for a convention. I saw it in the paper, and, well, I think we just need to avoid downtown for awhile.” 

“Convention?” Carlos made a face, his cheeks growing pink as Jay walked over to drape his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders. 

 _Oh, yeah,_ Mal remembered. _They’re dating now._

“A political convention, Pup,” Jay explained, smiling down at Carlos. “She’s running for governor.” 

“Of hell,” Mal added under her breath. “She’s got no competition there.” 

“Hey, now.” Carlos shot her a look. “I think my mom might give her a run for her money down in the fiery depths.” 

“Mine, too, I guess,” Evie added with a thin smile. She still seemed to struggle a bit when it came to joining in on the demonic-mother jokes. Mal had gotten over her guilt or leftover daughterly feelings by making sarcastic jokes about her mother’s more hellish qualities, but that didn’t mean it would work for Evie, too. 

“Jay?” Carlos looked up, smiling, and somehow the other boy knew exactly what that meant. Mal swore those two had telepathy or something. He grabbed the smaller boy’s computer and set it down in front of him, which earned him a nice (decently long) kiss. 

“Get a room.” Mal glared at both of them, just so that they wouldn’t get _too_ comfortable. 

“I thought we had one,” Jay shot back with a grin. “This one. We live here, remember?” 

“Not lately,” Carlos muttered as he started typing. He’d been struggling to balance his chores at home with his new life. And even though they’d gotten pretty good at covering up the bruises, it was still very clear that all was not well inside Hell Hall. He had been sleeping there most nights, unless Cruella happened to be away. 

“How’s your eye?” Mal nodded her head in his direction, eyeing the faint ghost of purple and blue beneath his left eye. He’d gotten a pretty bad hit to the eye the week prior. “Carlos?” 

The boy had gotten lost in his computer screen. Startled, he glanced up and only then realized she’d been talking to him. “Oh, uh, it’s alright. It’s… fine.” 

“Looks better,” Mal shrugged. “But not fine.” 

“Governor candidates…” Carlos ignored her last comment, instead opting to narrate his online search. “Gary Single -” 

“Bet he doesn’t have a wife,” Jay joked, only getting a laugh out of Carlos (he was probably obligated to laugh at Jay’s bad jokes now that they were together).

Mal secretly hoped that somehow they wouldn’t figure out which candidate was her mother, but hope seemed to be in short supply that morning. 

“Christopher Ryles, Antonio Eastman, Gavin Hires, and Maleficent Moors - found her.” 

“How did  -” Mal started to protest, but Carlos cut her off almost immediately. 

“Please,” he looked up at her with a smug little smile. “She’s the only female candidate on the list.” 

“Oh.” Of course she was. 

Evie leaned over to get a better look at the screen, and Mal felt a sudden jolt go through her. She definitely didn’t want Evie to see where she’d come from. She didn’t want Evie to know about her old life, her old self.  If Mal could have her way, Evie would never once have to look at Maleficent Moors’ face as long as she lived. But of course, the world never gave Mal her way, and a few clicks later, there she was: her mother in all her glory. 

“Oh…” Evie sounded a little breathless. “She… kinda looks like you.” 

“Oh, God I hope not!” Mal tugged at her hair again, groaning. “I don’t want anything to do with that woman. Not looks, not names, not anything!” 

“I’m sorry.” Evie offered her a soft, apologetic smile. “Just took me by surprise, that’s all. She doesn’t look anything like I pictured.” 

“Does it say anything else about her?” Mal huffed, folding her arms. As long as they were looking her up, they might as well get some inside information. 

“Hey, here’s an article on you.” To her surprise, Carlos actually glanced over at her before clicking. “We don’t have to read it if you don’t want us to.” 

Mal figured she could slam the laptop shut and order them not to dig into her past ever again, but honestly, what good would that do? It wouldn’t hurt her mother, only Mal. As usual. So she shrugged and gestured to the screen. “Have at it. Nothing to hide. She’ll use it to her advantage, trust me. She’s glad I’m gone.” 

“State Governor Candidate’s Tragic Past Leads Her To Push For Tighter Child Trafficking Laws,” Evie read aloud over Carlos’ shoulder, pausing to chew on her bottom lip - somehow not smudging her red lipstick at all. Sometimes she was magic like that. “Governor candidate Maleficent Moors has a very personal reason for advocating stricter regulations on state’s child trafficking laws. Moors believes the current jail sentences for offenders are too lenient and here’s why: Three years ago, Maleficent Moors’ fifteen-year-old daughter of the same name failed to return home from school. Although Moors immediately attempted to track her daughter down and contact the authorities, she received a lacking response from those ‘in charge of keeping our children safe.’ By the time the police ordered a full investigation, it was too late: Young Maleficent was gone. In a recent interview, Moors stated, ‘she was the only family I had left. My little girl was taken from me, kidnapped, and it would be a miracle if she’s still breathing today.’” 

“That bitch,” Mal growled, clenching her fists. “She didn’t file the report! My fucking school reached out and forced her too! She didn’t give a crap about me! And now she’s acting like some sort of victim?” 

“You’re still breathing,” Jay pointed out. “Apparently it’s a miracle.” 

“She’s a politician.” Carlos smiled wryly. “You expect her to be honest?” 

“My mother isn’t just dishonest.” Mal shook her head. “She’s fucking corrupt. She takes a percentage of all the money her supporters and campaign managers draw in and uses it for herself. She’s got a hundred offshore accounts full of political money. Half her charity budgets go straight into her own pocket. And there are real kids out there - trafficked kids - who need that money way more than she does! She takes advantage of them, just like she takes advantage of everything else in her life.” 

“Your real name is Maleficent?” Evie’s eyes met Mal’s, and she detected something there, soft and warm. “Mal, that’s beautiful.” 

“Thanks.” Mal’s voice went quiet, the air sucked from her lungs. “But I hate it. I don’t want her name.” 

“Well, I think it’s lovely. You don’t have to be your mother if you don’t want to.” Evie blew her a little kiss, which made Mal’s heart flutter in a very unsettling way. “Besides, Genevieve plus Maleficent has a very nice ring to it, don’t you think?” The fluttering intensified, and Mal couldn’t help growling again, hoping it would go away. 

“Are - are you flirting with me?” she asked in spite of herself, wondering if somehow she’d gotten this all wrong. Where was the girl who insisted she didn’t like girls? Who spurned all Mal’s advances? “Where is the Evie I know?” 

“She’s always been here,” the blue-haired girl promised. “That was Old Evie. I’m working hard to undo her, and now, I think I left her on the floor of my mother’s house.”

“Along with your clothes,” Carlos reminded her. The comment got him a gentle punch to the shoulder by Evie, whose cheeks had flushed. 

“What else does my asshat of a mother say about me?” Mal asked, curious now, despite her better judgement. She hadn’t kept tabs on her mother over the years, and only occasionally did she wonder what kinds of things her mother still said about her. It was strange, really, to think that someone else spoke about you as if you were dead. It felt freeing, and maybe slightly unnerving. 

Evie finished her playful little staredown with Carlos and cleared her throat, reading off the screen once more. “While this tragic event has propelled Moors to continue her campaign, this was not the reason she decided to enter politics. In fact, she was running for a local legislative position when her daughter disappeared. She does credit this as the reason she decided to seek higher office, however, saying, ‘I want the other mothers and daughters in this state to feel protected. Our children deserve tighter regulations and stricter punishments for those who commit the atrocity of taking and harming a child.’ Moors is planning to travel to high-trafficking areas to speak with some of the victims and and sponsors.” 

“So that’s why she’s here.” Jay shook his head. “Unbelievable. I guess this city does have a target on it’s head for that sort of thing.” 

“Well, she’s certainly got a great motive, alright.” Carlos whistled, glancing around at the group. “I mean, at this point, she looks like the perfect candidate. Political experience, driven, female among male-dominated field, and the mother of a trafficked child? You gotta admit, she’s planned this perfectly.”   

“That’s what makes it so damn hard,” Mal laughed bitterly. “I have to sit and watch her get everything she’s ever wanted. Power. You heard the reporter - she was already running for other offices and just decided to take my story and run with it! I swear, if I could get anything for my birthday, it would be to take that bitch down and see her entire perfectly false pedestal dissolve.” 

“Well,” Carlos shrugged, glancing around the table. “Why couldn’t we?” 

“ _What_?” Jay took a step back, his eyebrows shooting upwards. “Carlos, how would we even do that? That’s so far beyond our capabilities.” 

“She’s holding a convention, right?” The freckled boy’s fingers flew across his keyboard. “A gala. Why couldn’t we just expose her? Mal could walk in, reveal to everyone that she’s alive, and bam - her whole platform comes tumbling down.” 

“Nope.” Mal shook her head vehemently. That was not happening. She would not walk right back into her mother’s arms after she’d worked so hard to escape them. “I would much rather her believe that I’m dead.” 

“Then she still has a platform.” 

“She would find some way to twist it!” Mal said insistently. She knew her mother. If she revealed herself, there would be absolutely no way it could end well for her. “And then I’d have to deal with her awfulness in my life, _and_ watch her bullshit her way to the top.” 

“What if,” Evie twirled a strand of hair around her finger, looking thoughtful. “What if you exposed her in a different way. A legal way.” Her eyes glowed a bit as she spoke. “You said she steals money, right? From her campaign? That’s illegal.” 

“Yeah,” Jay agreed. “But no one’s caught her yet. And it’s been years and years of her doing this, trust me. How would we get anywhere near enough evidence to prove it? And why would they believe kids like us anyway?” 

“All that stuff is on her computer,” Mal added. She’d never been allowed anywhere near that thing. “And it’s under lock and key pretty much constantly. She loved it more than she loved me, which isn’t saying much.” 

“Well, we’re criminals, aren’t we?” Jay shrugged. “‘Los, can you hack it or something?” 

“No.” Carlos gestured to his computer. “I can’t just search ‘Mal’s mother’s computer’ and expect it to pop right up.” 

“That would be fucking awesome.” 

Mal rolled her eyes at the boys’ banter, but somewhere inside the back of her brain, a spark had been lit. It burned quietly, but constantly. 

What would it be like? To take her mother down? 

Could they do it? 

They did run a pretty tight ring as it was, stealing and making a living off other people’s pockets. But that was petty stuff, just simply thievery. Mal didn’t know if they could pull off a full-scale infiltration like Carlos had proposed. 

 _But maybe,_ the spark whispered. _Just maybe._

* * *

 

**~J~**

 

Even though Mal didn’t like to celebrate her birthday, Jay always got her something anyway. And not stolen, either. Well, the money was stolen, but the goods weren’t. He liked to get her art supplies, usually, since those were rather tough to come by on the streets. And of course, he’d fixed up that car for her sixteenth two years ago.

Jay had known Mal for most of his life, and she was the only family he cared about. Even if she didn’t acknowledge her birthday, he liked to let her know that someone out there remembered. After all, her mother thought she was dead and her father really was dead, so if Jay didn’t give her something, who would? 

This year, though, it wasn’t just the two of them. They had Carlos and Evie, and they seemed to love Mal almost as much as he did. 

“So Mal really doesn’t want us to celebrate her birthday, huh?” Evie asked, staring out the window at the snow flurry that had started an hour ago. Tomorrow was the eleventh, and so far, none of them had brought up Mal’s birthday since the morning they’d discussed her mother. 

“Not with a cake or decorations.” Jay sat on the couch, Carlos at his feet. He’d just finished a tiny braid in Carlos’ hair and now, he moved onto another one just like it. It was soothing work. “But I always like to get her something anyway.” 

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?” Carlos laughed, checking the time. His head rested comfortably against Jay’s legs. It was nice, really, to know Carlos felt comfortable in such an intimate position. “Her birthday is tomorrow.” 

“I’ve got time,” Jay laughed. He always did the shopping rather last minute. “Tomorrow’s her eighteenth, too. I remember when we first left home, we both calculated how many days we had until our eighteenths. Then, even if our parents found us, they couldn’t take us back. We thought being adults was gonna be the greatest thing ever.” 

“No wonder she was pretty pissed that her mother was in town,” Carlos chuckled, reaching up to feel Jay’s braiding job. “Ooh, do another braid right next to those last two.” 

“Yeah, imagine getting caught now.” Evie turned back to them. “I mean, she’s just got a few more hours, and then she's free.” She paused, staring off for a moment. “Do you think she was serious?” 

“About what?” Jay figured Mal probably was, whatever Evie was referring to. She usually meant what she said. 

“Wanting to expose her mother.” 

There had been no more talk of that either, but Jay knew that Mal had probably been pretty serious. But serious or not, Jay didn’t really care. It would be impossible, and quite possibly insane, to think that the four of them would stand a chance. They weren't action heroes or even heroes at all. 

“So?” Evie prompted, raising her eyebrows. “Was she serious?” 

“Maybe,” Jay admitted. “Not that it's possible. Evie, I knew her mother. She’s… she’s something else.” 

“Is she as scary as Mal thinks she is?” Carlos asked, and Jay was suddenly very glad that Mal wasn't home at the moment. 

“Mal doesn't get scared,” he said resolutely. “And she’ll probably murder you if you even imply that she is. Once, I asked her if she’d been spooked by the thunderstorm and she damn near broke my arm.” 

“It's fine,” came a voice. The other three looked up to see Mal standing in the doorway. She was carrying a bag of groceries in one hand and car keys in the other. Jay hadn’t heard the door open, and he quickly studied her face for any kind of anger, but found none. 

“Carlos, my mom is the worst.” Mal set the bag down on the counter rather violently. The door slammed shut behind her, causing the freckled boy to wince. 

“Jay thinks we wouldn't be able to take her down,” Evie commenting, getting up to put the food away. 

“Does he?” Mal looked mildly intrigued. 

“Well, I'm just being realistic.” Jay didn’t want to put any false hope into her head.

“I never said we were going to do it,” Mal told him, but he squinted at her anyway. She had that look on her face, the stubborn one. She had been serious, and she definitely did want to do this. 

“Oh my God,” he groaned. “You're dead serious.” 

“I might be.” 

Jay just couldn’t find it in himself to get onboard. Sure, their life up until that point had been built off of horrible ideas that shouldn’t have succeeded, but that didn’t mean they had to willingly continue the trend. “Mal.” 

“You can say no.” She didn’t break eye contact, staring at him lazily from her perch on the table. 

“No, I can’t.” 

“You know, running away was impossible, too,” the purple-haired girl offered. “And this might just be even easier than that.” 

“Okay, let me get this straight.” He held up his hand, hoping she would shrug it off and just let the matter go. Sometimes Mal would latch onto a crazy idea, carry it around for a couple of days, and then it would fizzle out. “You want us to somehow get our hands on your mother’s work computer or whatever, to what? Download incriminating files? If there even are any? Send them to someone? Mal, the details are so fucking fuzzy. And if by some miracle we got our hands on her computer, then what? What if there are no files at all?” 

“There are,” Carlos cut in gently, raising his head from Jay’s lap at last. “I doubt Mal’s mother knows how to completely hide or erase the footprint. Besides, she probably isn’t in on this alone. I’m sure her campaign manager is getting a cut, and then there would be correspondence between them.” 

“You mean, like emails?” Mal’s eyes glowed a bit brighter, and Jay sighed. Apparently, this wasn’t going to fizzle out. 

“Yeah,” Carlos nodded. “And most of the time, the files with budgets or falsified balances are also created on that computer, just under a different name. If one of us get can get our hands on the hard drive for even a few minutes, we can download copies of everything.” 

“You’ve been thinking about this.” Jay wasn’t asking. He turned his narrow gaze on his boyfriend now, folding his arms. “Traitor.” 

“Just a little bit!” Carlos laughed, ducking away from Jay’s glare. “It’s an interesting idea! But it all depends on getting the computer, and that would require Mal’s mother to be away from it.” 

“She never is,” Mal said. “She always has that thing on her. There’s this hard drive she’s always carting around with her, too; it’s got its own case and everything. She tucks it inside her computer case and never lets it out of her sight.” 

“Maybe not at a party, though.” Evie had clearly been watching the whole exchange in silent contemplation, waiting for the right time to speak up. She also had an excited little gleam in her eye. Jay was starting to wonder if he was the only one who disagreed with this insane idea. 

“The gala.” Carlos nodded, sitting up straighter. “You’re right, Evie. She won’t have it on her person, at least. Maybe nearby, but that’s nothing we can’t sticky-finger our way into getting.” 

“Okay, okay, do you hear yourselves?” Jay cried. “Guys. We’re petty criminals. We pickpocket tourists and street civilians for, not politicians for their hard drives!. This is -” 

“A chance to prove ourselves,” Mal grinned. “Come on, Jay, Carlos just said that it would be a perfect job for someone with your skillset. Don’t tell me you’re scared. Aren’t you the impulsive one here?” 

Jay thought about it for a moment and decided that he definitely wasn’t scared. If anything, he was being cautious. And he had a good reason to be. Before he’d met Carlos, he would’ve totally jumped on this idea - the crazier a scheme, the better. But he hadn’t had anything to lose before, nothing at stake. His entire livelihood revolved around - depended upon - getting back at the parents that had wronged him and Mal. Now, things were different. He liked the routine they’d settled into, the way they’d found a new kind of normal. Even if he spent most of the nights sneaking in or out of Cruella’s house, he still found it rather habitual. If they fucked this up, it would put their whole livelihoods in jeopardy. 

“Jay… ” Carlos glanced up at him. “It’s alright. What’s the harm?” 

Lots of harm, Jay wanted to tell him. So much harm. But he didn’t know how to voice his concerns without coming off weak. So he just shrugged and gave everyone a smile. “None, I guess. Alright, maybe we can try and pull this off.” 

“Great.” Mal grabbed a pad of paper from the counter, pulling a pen out from her pocket. “Okay, so the gala is this Saturday - ” 

“This Saturday?” Evie gasped. “Mal, that’s only six days away! I can’t make outfits that fast!” 

“Huh?” 

“We’re going to a party,” the blue-haired girl smiled. “We’re going to need outfits.” 

Mal made a disgusted face.  “I’m not wearing a dress.” 

“Please,” Evie scoffed. “Of course not. You’ll be wearing something with pants, leather and purple. I’m not a total idiot.” 

“See?” Mal pointed at her. “She gets me.” 

“I don’t think we should all go into the gala.” Carlos scratched the back of his neck. “For one thing, I, uh, need to be outside so that, as soon as one of you gets me that hard drive, I can make copies of everything on it, and two, well - won’t Mal’s mom recognize her and Jay?” 

“Good point,” Jay nodded. “Very good point.”

That seemed to stump them all. Carlos was right. Mal definitely couldn’t be onsite, which meant they’d have to pull this off without one of the most experienced people on the team. But if Mal was a definite no, then Evie was a definite yes. For one thing, she’d volunteered to go almost immediately. And for another, if anyone knew how to act among politicians and rich investors while being all dressed up, it was Evie Grimhilde. Mal argued that Carlos should go, too, since her mother wouldn’t know him either, but he strongly disagreed, insisting that he’d mess it up. And Jay knew exactly what Carlos was worried about; he knew how Carlos froze in social situations, how he hated any kind of long winded interaction with most people. And who could blame him? He’d been stuck in that creepy house all day with no reprieve. It would only end in disaster - a panic attack or otherwise - if they threw Carlos into that kind of a setting, and Jay would never forgive himself.” 

“I’ll go,” Jay spoke up, squeezing Carlos’ hand subtly. 

“Like hell you will,” Mal snorted in response. “Mom would recognize you the instant you walked in.” 

“Listen, I’m charming, a smooth-talker, good with cover-ups, quick on my feet, and the best pickpocket here,” he rattled off. “I’m clearly the best man for the job.” Jay didn’t miss the grateful little smile Carlos threw him. 

Mal, on the other hand, didn’t seem quite so thankful. “Jay, she’ll see you. You’ll blow it.” 

“It’s been three years, Dragon. People change.” 

She shook her head, looking very much unconvinced. “Not that much.” 

Luckily, Evie came to the rescue. “I can do his makeup,” she said with a smile. “Nothing too crazy, just enough to shade his cheekbones and maybe some colored contacts? If it’s not in the right context, she probably won’t even notice. I mean, she’s not expecting to see Jay there, and let’s be honest, she won’t even give him a second glance. Hopefully.” 

“Jay, if you blow it, I’ll kill you. But… Evie’s makeup is close to magic or something. So, I guess I’ll trust her for now.” Mal scribbled down notes on her pad. “You two will be inside the party itself. Can we find a guest list for that? Carlos?”  

“I can try.” He went to work, opening up his computer. Now that he knew he didn’t have to go to the party, he seemed a lot more at ease. “Do I need to get them on it?” 

The other girl gave him an impressed quirk of her eyebrow. “Is that possible?” 

“Probably. If I can find the source.” 

Jay didn’t know the first thing about hacking guest lists, or for that matter, hacking anything at all, but he’d watched enough of Carlos’ work to have some faith in him. If he said he could do it, he would do it. 

“Evie, you’re on outfit duty, correct?” Mal chewed on the end of her pen, something she’d been doing for as long as Jay had known her. Too often, the pen would split and she’d end up with ink all over her lips. 

“Of course.” The blue-haired girl already had her sketchbook in hand, penciling in new ideas. “I’m on a time crunch, and I’ll definitely need a good portion of this week’s haul to buy fabric, but… I think I can make this work. Good thing I brought my sewing machine over here before Mom… uh… let me go.” 

“Yeah.” Mal’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, as if she was sending her silent comfort, before moving to Jay. He noticed how bright her face was, alight with the thrill of scheming (and her mother being the target). “What, Jay?”

“Is this going to make your eighteenth birthday worth celebrating?” he asked, the corner of his mouth tugging reluctantly into a smile. 

“I’ll tell you when it’s over. Now go out and get some more money for Evie. She needs to make you a dress.” 

“A suit!” 

“Whatever.” 

By the time Mal’s birthday dawned, the tiny little offhand comment Mal made had turned into a full-blown scheme. Well, mostly blown, anyway. Every so often, one of the four would stop and gasp and realize something else that needed to be ironed out. Evie was the one who’d brought up fake names (they decided that yes, they were necessary), and Mal brought up the question of interactions inside the gala.

“Are you two going as dates?” she asked near lunchtime, still editing her notes. She looked happier than he’d ever seen her on her birthday - focused, driven, alert. 

Carlos made a face, and Jay couldn’t help grinning a little bit. It wasn’t like Carlos to get jealous; it made him feel rather special. 

Pretending to date Evie for the night would give them a good excuse to stay in contact - but then again, if something happened, they’d both be dragged down. 

“I don’t think so,” Jay decided, furrowing his brows. “Not that it’s anything against you, Eves, but - if one of us fucks up - we shouldn’t be connected to the other person. That way we have a better chance of one of us getting out.” 

“He’s right.” Evie glanced up from her sketches, which were in color now, with tiny measurements penciled in along the sides. “I wouldn’t want to get you caught. I’m not quite as experienced.” 

“You’ll both be fine,” Mal said with conviction. “Both of you are pretty good at flirting. Better use that skill to your advantage.” 

“Jay,” Carlos caught his arm, squinting. “You better not come back with a hot new man.” 

Laughing, Jay kissed the freckled boy’s forehead. Didn’t he know that there was no one else in the world Jay wanted to date? “Never fear,” he teased, placing a fist over his heart and looking up valiantly. “Your brave -” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Mal threw her pen at him. “Both of you, back to work.” 

“Sir, yes, sir,” Jay mumbled, cheering inwardly when Carlos cracked another grin. Both boys went back to their previously assigned jobs: Carlos getting them on the guest list and Jay, well, Jay really wasn’t doing much of anything except bothering Mal. Which was always very important. 

“Hey, Dragon?” He wandered over to her, tapping her shoulder.

She barely looked up, focused on the plans unfolding in front of her. “What?” 

“How mad would you be if I asked your mother about her ‘long-lost daughter’ and got her to give the whole newspaper speech again?” 

“You’re not gonna do that, “Mal countered, finally making eye contact. “You’re not gonna be talking to my mother at all. Jay, you will avoid her at all costs. Do you understand me? Just in case. No ‘missing daughter’ jokes, no accidentally - what - dropping my photo? Pretending to be my secret lover? None of your crap. This is serious.” 

“I was the one who said we shouldn’t be doing this in the first place,” he protested, folding his arms. “And now you’re telling me that I can’t have a little fun with it?” 

“Not if it means blowing your cover.” She looked up at him. “Hey, don’t you have shit you need to be doing? Everyone else is busy.” 

“ _Happy birthday to you,_ ” Jay sang, off-key. “ _Happ -”_

“Jay!” 

“Fine!” He grabbed the keys off the counter, blowing a raspberry at her. “I’m going out.” He probably needed to get her a gift - something he still hadn’t done. “Carlos, you coming?” 

The freckled boy looked up from his computer with a smile. “Sure.” 

“Are you almost done with the whole guest list business?” Mal asked, holding up a hand so Jay wouldn’t walk out the door. 

“Yes.” Carlos gave her a sweet little smile that Jay could see right through. The little shit wasn’t anywhere near done. Mal narrowed her eyes, but he met her stare, challenging. It was always a mistake to underestimate Carlos de Vil. 

“Alright, alright.” Evie stepped between them, patting Mal on the head. “Okay, both of you, back down. We don’t need to start fighting amongst each other _before_ we pull this off.” 

Between Evie’s mediating and Mal’s sudden distraction (probably due in part to Evie’s gentle hair stroking), Carlos and Jay were able to slip out without any more trouble. 

“So where are we going?” Carlos grinned, running a hand through his curls (which he hadn’t straightened that morning, much to Jay’s personal joy. He’d started missing the curls more and more lately). 

“Doesn’t matter,” Jay laughed. “Needed some air.” He could only handle being cooped up for so long. He also didn’t plan very well. Sure, it was necessary, and especially in this case, would probably be instrumental in their success, but he liked to commit and carry out. The whole details business really sucked ass. 

“Yeah, I kinda figured that when you started bugging the shit out of Mal.” His boyfriend looked up at him with a fond little smile. “Entertaining, but desperate.” 

“Shut up.” 

Even though he’d been thinking about it a lot - well, at least a few times - Jay still had no idea what to get Mal. She still had plenty of charcoal. He supposed he could get her new paints or brushes, but that didn’t seem special enough for eighteen. 

“I thought Mal didn’t like her birthday,” Carlos said after Jay brought up the fact for the dozenth time. Last night’s snow had turned to a sort of ice coat on the sidewalks and now, they held hands not only as a romantic gesture, but as a vital support system. “Tell me again why we’re out here looking for the ‘perfect gift’?”

“We don’t celebrate it.” Jay blew gently on the hand not intertwined in Carlos’ to warm it up. “But we _acknowledge_ it. And since we live off, you know, alternative methods of breadwinning, I like to purchase something for her. I got the car for her sixteenth, actually.” 

“The one I fixed up?” Carlos laughed. “The one you crashed?” 

“Yup.” Jay smiled at the memory. “And I don’t regret that, by the way, because I met you.” 

“Stop.” But Carlos’ cheeks flushed a little darker, and he didn’t think it was the cold’s fault. “Tell me more about the car. Where’d you even find it?” 

“Junk yard,” the taller boy grinned. “The guy said it was total shit - engine wouldn’t even start - so, he let me buy it from him for two hundred dollars. I took it to this vacant parking lot, spent a long time fixing it up, and then gave it to Mal.” 

“Awwww,” Carlos teased, laughing when Jay made a face. “How adorable.” 

“It’s not adorable,” Jay argued. “Fixing a car is quite -” 

“Manly?” The smaller boy broke into another smile. “Please. You’re allowed to be masculine and thoughtful, you know.” 

“Maybe.” Jay wasn’t sure how that worked. His father had always said boys were supposed to be tough and dominant and callous. It was in their nature, in his nature. He’d never thought of himself as the thoughtful type, and figured he never would if he could help it.

 The boys kept walking, sometimes staring at the icy cement and other times squinting up into the paper-white sky. 

“Do you really think we can pull this off?” Carlos broke the silence as they passed by a pawn shop, one that Jay had stolen from a couple of times. “I mean, sure, we’ve been doing this whole pickpocket ring, right? But this is… different.” 

“I thought you didn’t have doubts.” Jay hadn’t prepared to console someone else’s fears. He’d been trying to do the same thing (unsuccessfully) to himself for the past twenty four hours. “I was the one playing the part of the skeptic, remember?” 

“I know, I know,” Carlos laughed some. “But you brought up some good points.” 

“I think this will bring Mal more happiness than anything I could’ve ever gotten her - stolen or purchased,” Jay said slowly, nodding as he did. “Maybe that’s why I’m struggling to find a gift for her this year. Once she goes to the cops with proof… man, she’s wanted that day to come since forever.”  

Carlos bit his lip. “Yeah.” But he kept his eyes fixated on the street, and Jay got the feeling that there was something he wasn’t telling him. But the freckled boy had his shoulders forward, one hand in his pocket, and his lips pursed - classic signs that he wasn't ready to talk. Jay would wait; he knew Carlos would come to him when he was ready. 

* * *

 

**~C~**

 

Carlos couldn’t believe he’d walked around in the cold for an hour just for Jay to change his mind about getting Mal a gift. Well, not exactly - he’d decided that exposing her corrupt mother was gift enough - but still. His fingers should not have had to become icicles for that to have happened. 

As he walked beside Jay in the growing darkness, he couldn’t help chewing his lip a little.  They were chapped and raw from the wind, but he tore of a tiny piece of skin away anyway. He knew he’d regret that later. 

“You’re quiet tonight,” Jay remarked as they turned onto their street. “Something on your mind?” 

Instead of answering, Carlos shrugged. He did have something nagging at the back of his mind, but he didn’t even know how to start addressing it himself, let alone admit it to Jay - who already mostly opposed this whole operation anyway.  

As soon as the boys arrived home, Evie pounced on Jay to take his measurements for whatever incredibly handsome getup she no doubt had in mind for the big event. Ever since she’d been tasked with the assignment of designing their outfits, she’d barely stopped moving. From the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment her head hit the pillow, she had a piece of cloth or an outline or a measuring tape at hand and buzzing with excitement. It was really nice to see her so involved and alive. 

But however appealing the idea of watching Jay strip off his shirt to get tangled up in Evie’s tape, their preoccupation left him some ample time to talk to Mal about his concerns. He’d never been good at breaching difficult subjects with other people, especially Mal, who still sort of intimidated him at times, but he also wasn’t good at letting things just sit unnoticed in his brain. So, he decided to start with a question. 

“Uh, Mal,” he said quietly, toying with the strings on his sweatshirt. “Once you get this proof or whatever… what do you plan on doing with it?” 

The purple-haired girl looked up from her sketchbook, a strange look in her eyes. “Why do you care?” 

“Because.” He took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “Whatever you’re hoping to get off your mother’s computer… it’s stolen. It won’t be considered viable evidence in a court of law.” 

Mal chewed on the end of her pencil. “You don’t think I know that, Spotty?” 

“The police -” The freckled boy paused, replaying what she’d just said. “Wait, did you just say you know? Then why -” 

“Because I want to,” she interrupted. “And because… maybe I don’t have to go to the police to get her to admit her fuck-ups. But I do need those damn files.” 

Carlos wanted to ask more. He _really_ wanted to ask more. But something beneath Mal’s words stopped him from doing so; besides, what she wanted the files for wasn’t any of his business anyway - just as long as she knew the facts about the legality of evidence, which apparently she did. 

“Jay!” came Evie’s indignant cry. “Hold still.” 

“He can’t,” Mal grinned, looking over her shoulder at the pair. “It’s like physically impossible for him.” 

“ADHD?” Carlos figured they talked about enough shit together to ask. 

“Who knows.” Jay gave him a cheeky smile. “I never got any medication or whatever.” 

“Okay, fine, Mister.” Evie flicked the tape affectionately in Jay’s direction. “Just let me get this last measurement, and you’re a free man.” 

The freckled boy felt heat rise to his cheeks as he watched, leaning on the back of the couch a bit dreamily. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Jay had a great body. Years of climbing and running and lifting had toned his muscles quite nicely. Between the golden skin and the biceps, Carlos figured he could stare at Jay for hours and never get bored. 

“You’re drooling,” Mal said in a low voice, and Carlos jumped, startled. He hadn’t noticed her creep up next to him. 

“Fuck, Mal,” he sighed. “Don’t do that.” 

At least the purple-haired girl had the decency to look a bit sheepish. “My bad. But you were.” 

Carlos avoided eye contact. He rarely had one-on-one time with Mal. And it wasn’t like he was scared of her. Scared definitely wasn’t the right word. More like… he wanted to her approval. She’d accepted him into her little family, and he wanted so badly to show her that she’d made the right choice. 

Mal’s eyes were still staring into him, unblinking. “Something’s on your mind.” That was very Mal. She didn’t ask; she stated. 

Taking one last glance at Evie and Jay, who were now locked in some witty banter, Carlos slid back down the couch and turned around. “Not much. Just… this is a big thing we’re gonna do.”

“Not that.” Mal narrowed her gaze. “You have something else bothering you.” 

“Damn, what are you?” he grumbled. “Psychic?” 

“Just observant.” She pursed her lips and frowned. “Tell me.” 

 So Carlos told her. Not everything, of course. Just what she needed to know. He told her how much he wanted her to succeed. How much he wanted to please her, to be useful for once in his life. And when he’d finished, the purple-haired girl stayed quiet for a moment before popping up. 

“Carlos and I are going to get some milk,” she announced. “A certain someone finished the whole thing last night.” She glared at Jay with no real malice. He protested, but the evidence against him was damning. Jay had a habit of drinking straight from the carton, and they all knew he could down it scarily fast. “E, you’re in charge!” 

It was just as cold outside now as it had been with Jay, maybe even colder. Carlos cursed under his breath as a freezing wind picked up, cutting right through his boots and socks. The car was a tiny bit warmer, though, once they got the engine running - it gave them protection from the wind, at least. They drove in silence for a while, long enough for Carlos to start wondering whether she really wanted to address what he’d said at all. His stomach twisted into knots of apprehension that only tightened the more time she spent silent. He sort of wished he’d never said anything at all. 

Finally, Mal cleared her throat. “So.” 

“Yeah?” He sounded way too eager, even to his own ears. 

“Down, boy,” Mal turned the corner hard, and a chorus of honking ensued from the other drivers around them. “You think you’re useless, huh?” 

“No.” It was a lie, and they both knew it. “Maybe a little. I mean, I should be the one going into that party. Not Jay. He only offered because he saw the look on my face.” 

“I know.” She looked over at him for half a second. “I’m observant, remember? And I get it.” 

“How?” Carlos hadn’t meant for it to come out so harshly, and his breath caught in his throat. What if she got angry? What if she hit him? What if - 

“Because I used to feel useless too, de Vil.” Mal hadn’t hit him. Mal hadn’t gotten angry. Mal had… opened up to him? “I felt useless all the damn time. And I was so _angry_ about it. My mom made sure of that. Look, when Jay first brought you home, I’ll admit it, I wasn’t sure about you. It had been just me and him for so long, but I don’t think that anymore. You’ll find your purpose, just like I found mine.” 

“You’re sure?” The freckled boy still couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“I’m not lying.” Mal drove on in silence again. 

“Did your mother tell you that you were useless?” Carlos had to ask. Because Cruella had told him, all the time, and if Mal’s mother had, too - then maybe he really could be like her. Maybe he really could get stronger and tougher and - 

“Sometimes.” The purple-haired girl stared straight ahead. “She made me feel useless. But the difference is I stopped believing it.” 

And suddenly, a light bulb switched on in Carlos’ head. The pieces fell into place. Everything just clicked, like one of his machines when he finally fit everything perfectly. He saw Mal more clearly than he’d ever seen her before. He recognized the look on her face, the bitterness in her words, and he felt something deep inside him thrum with empathy. “Maybe so,” Carlos said, dropping his voice. “But I think there’s a reason that you want those files so badly. A tiny part of you still wants to prove to her that you made it. That you don’t need her. That you’re stronger than she’ll ever be. To get back at her for making you feel like you don’t matter. You don’t care about exposing her to the police or the press. You just want to show her you’re not useless anymore.” 

Mal’s mouth opened some and then closed. She looked a little startled, like he’d plunged a knife into her somehow - and maybe, in some metaphorical way, he had. “That’s - we’re talking about you! Not me! Just - stop talking.” 

“Alright.” Carlos raised an eyebrow, sitting back. “You don’t have to admit anything. I just think out loud sometimes. And I know I’m right about this.” 

They kept driving, and Carlos watched the scenery outside the window as it glided by: the lit windows; orange pumpkins on front steps, bright against the darkening grey sky; but most of all, Carlos watched the people. There were families and children and couples. They drove past a man in the front yard gathering children’s toys from the grass, an elderly couple sitting inside at the table with their grandchildren, and plenty of families gathered in living rooms or around the TV. Carlos used to walk past all these houses and wonder what it felt like, to have a home and people to share it with, but he hadn’t known exactly what he’d been missing out on. 

 _Now I do,_ he mused silently. _I think I understand now. At least better than before._

As they rounded the corner and their apartment building came into sight, Carlos smiled. He might not have pumpkins or a beautifully set dinner table, but he did have a family now, even if it wasn’t perfect. 

They pulled into their parking spot, and Carlos didn’t expect Mal to talk again - figured she needed some time to mull over what he’d said - but as she’d been doing a lot tonight, she surprised him. 

“You’re pretty wise, Carlos.” Her voice sounded far away. “Everyone tells you that you’re a genius. But you’re pretty wise, too.” 

It was probably the best thing anyone had ever said about him. 

* * *

 

**~E~**

 

This was real. This was happening. 

She, Evie, was going to go headfirst into a gala. And if that weren’t enough, she’d be going undercover, too, in a dress that she’d designed. Maybe someone would compliment or ask who she was wearing and she’d get to say: “Why, I’m wearing Evie Grimhilde.” The words sounded sweet said out loud, even if they were just whispered to herself as she cut out the pieces for her dress and laid them out on the floor. “You haven’t heard of her? Oh, you will. Believe me, you will.” 

“This is a really long time for Mal and Carlos to be gone.” Jay’s voice tore her from her little fantasy. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him doing pullups on the doorframe. Of course he was. “Where do you think they went?” 

“To get milk, probably,” she answered sarcastically. “What? You think they lied?” 

“No.” Jay dropped down from the door, and came to stand behind her, watching the neat movements of the scissors. “It’s just taking a while. Think something happened? Should I go find them?” 

“Your boyfriend is fine.” She couldn’t help smiling some. Underneath all his muscles and attitude, Jay was just a stupid idiot with a crush and a boner for her best friend. 

“And, uh, your girlfriend?” 

Evie froze some, her scissors pausing. That word still gave her chills, even though she _knew_ it shouldn’t. Her mother had already done her worst. She’d already all but admitted it to Mal. And she had gotten better about some casual flirting, even some jokes now and again. But.. that word… it still terrified her.  “I - I don’t know.” 

Jay dropped down to the floor beside her, sitting cross-legged next to the traced and cut blue fabric shapes on the floor. “And why not, Princess?” 

For some reason, Evie couldn’t meet his eyes, opting instead to open and close the scissors in her lap. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open - 

“Princess.” Jay apparently wasn’t going to let her off the hook. “I’m not gonna tell Mal. But you can tell me. Do you like her?” 

If she could say it to her mother, she could say it to Jay, right? 

_Say it, say it, say it, say it._

The words didn’t seem to want to form. The blood rushed into her head, and all she could manage was one, tiny, nearly imperceptible nod. And then she waited. Evie waited for the world to end or for Jay to laugh or - at the very least - for her mother to come bursting in and tell her what a disgusting, dirty little slut she’d turned out to be. 

“Cool.” Jay smiled at her, nodding. 

“ _Cool_?” Evie choked out, dismayed to find that her hands were shaking. “I just - admitted - that - and you say cool?” 

Jay shrugged, looking at her with a steady gaze. “Yeah. Because it’s not something that defines you, Evie. You’re not Evie, The Lesbian or Evie Who Has A Crush On A Girl. You’re just Evie. Our Evie. Who happens to like girls when she wants to kiss someone.” 

Her vision blurred some, and her jaw ached from clenching. “Really?” It sounded weak, and Mal probably would’ve lectured her, but she didn’t care. 

Nodding, Jay reached out and rubbed his thumb across her hand. “Yeah, Princess, really.” 

Evie didn’t quite know how to feel. She supposed a part of her felt elated, at having told someone else. But she also couldn’t help feeling stupid. Jay had a point; this didn’t have to be such a big deal. Why did it matter who she liked anyway? 

“I kinda feel stupid,” she admitted, leaning on Jay’s shoulder. She could see now why Carlos liked it there so much. It was very comforting. 

Jay shrugged, laughing softly. “It happens to the best of us.” 

“I doubted you, know.” Evie didn’t even know why she said it, but if they were being so honest tonight, she thought he should know. “I went to Mal. Asked her if I thought you’d be good for Carlos. As if you’d hurt a hair on his head.” 

Jay nodded, still laughing softly, seemingly unbothered by the news. “What changed your mind?” 

“I’m not sure,” she sniffed. For half a second, she even considered rubbing her eyes and smudging her makeup. “A lot of things. You. Seeing him laugh. Hearing all the things Mal says about you. She’s proud of you.” 

The boy nodded, exhaling softly. “Well, isn’t that a relief,” he joked. “I was starting to worry, what with all those green eyed glares and all.” 

“I like those green eyes.” The words made her mouth dry and cheeks red, but if Jay noticed, he didn’t comment. “You’re a good listener, Jay,” she said finally.  

“Glad to hear it.”

When Mal and Carlos returned a little while later, Evie felt her heart start to pound again. She wanted to tell Mal. She had to tell Mal. She felt Jay squeeze her arm a little as she stood up, brushing off her skirt and blouse. He gave her a little nod and thumbs up, which actually did help calm the butterfly tornado that had started swirling in her gut. 

“M…” 

Mal’s eyes flashed green at the nickname. “How’d it go here?” she asked with a small smile, setting the keys down. “You hold down the fort okay?” 

“I think Jay did more holding this time around,” Evie admitted honestly. “I kinda need to tell you something. I should’ve told you a long time ago, but I - I couldn’t. I still kinda can’t, but I’m going to anyway because I won’t be like my mother and judge myself. And Jay says it doesn’t define me, and I’m choosing to believe that.” The words came out in a rush, all tumbling over each other in an effort to finally get out. 

“So tell me.” Mal folded her arms, giving Evie her full attention. The blue-haired girl didn’t know if that made this whole thing better or worse. 

Evie took a deep breath. She had all of their attention now, and for once, being the center of everyone’s focus was the last thing on earth she wanted. But there was no stopping it now; she’d made her decision.  “I think I like girls. And - and I think I like you, Mal.” 

“Think?” The girl raised an eyebrow challenging, and it was clear the announcement hadn’t shocked her in the slightest. 

“Mal!” Evie huffed. 

“Fine.” The girl pushed her hair behind her ears and opened her arms awkwardly. “I’m not surprised. But I am proud. If that makes any sense.” 

And the hug that Mal pulled her into was strange and weird and full of heart palpitations and flushed cheeks, but Evie liked it. 

She liked it a lot. 

 _I’m crushing on a girl,_ she thought breathlessly. _And now everyone knows it._

 


	8. Conventions and Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quick thanks for all your support :) every single one of your comments/kudos is so so appreciated! thanks for brightening my day!
> 
> just a quick warning: this chapter gets very dark with some past sexual abuse revealed. feel free to skip over it if that's a trigger.

**~M~**

 

“Jay, it looks fine,” Mal said for the hundredth time, secretly so grateful that she wasn’t the one getting all dolled up. 

“I look like a goddamn prince or something!” Jay tugged at the collared shirt and red suit that fit him perfectly thanks to Evie’s careful measurements. 

“Oh, really?” Mal snorted, amused. She hadn’t seen him look this dressed up in years, and she was definitely enjoying his reaction. “How many princes have you met in your lifetime, huh? Don’t get too comfortable. Evie is gonna come out and mess with you for another twenty minutes, mark my words.” 

Right on schedule, Evie burst out of the bathroom and began fussing with Jay’s hair. She didn’t look anywhere near ready, clad only in a tank top and shorts, but Mal liked the view nonetheless. 

“I’m thinking we leave most of it down,” Evie said, scrunching her eyebrows together adorably and scrutinizing Jay’s face. Mal watched, half entertained by Jay's expression and half affectionately at Evie’s. “Since Mal’s mom knew you with shorter hair, we have to play up the length now. Then again…  this is a formal event, so maybe putting it up would be more appropriate. No, no, definitely down. Can’t blow this thing.” 

“Blow,” Jay grinned. “I’d like to blow - _hey_!” He made a dramatic face in Mal’s direction as she raised her hand again for another flick to the ear. “What was that for?” 

“Stay focused,” Mal hissed. “No sex right now.” 

“What’s this about sex?” Carlos entered the apartment, shutting the front door behind him. 

“No one is having sex,” Mal growled, going over and inspecting the contents of his bag. “Did you get the bobby pins E asked for?” 

“They should be in there,” he said amicably, giving Jay a look. “Someone’s on edge today. You nervous, Mal?” 

“I don’t get nervous,” she snapped back, and even Evie stifled a laugh. Mal couldn’t believe her own girlfriend (they hadn’t talked about it since she’d come out last night, but Mal figured it couldn’t hurt to start using the word) was taking the boys’ side. “You sided with the dumbasses, E? I’m disappointed.” 

“Come on” Evie ran the brush through Jay’s wet hair, working through the tangles. “You always get snappy when you’re stressed.” 

“Stressed, yes,” Mal nodded. “Nervous, no.” They couldn’t fail tonight. She needed to get her hands on those files, needed to show her mother she wasn’t as untouchable as she always seemed to think. 

“Can we go over the plan again?” Carlos had Mal’s notes in his hands, scanning them over for the hundredth time like he’d been doing on and off all morning. He was almost more obsessive about this than she was. 

Thrilled at having something to do, Mal nodded, snatching her notes back and clearing her throat. “Certainly. Jay, listen up!” 

“I already know the plan!” he protested, dutifully doing his best to stand (mostly) still while Evie messed with his hair, spraying this product and that. 

Mal knew that he knew - they’d all been over the steps a hundred times or more - but listing them helped order the scattered thoughts in her brain, so she plowed onwards. “You and Evie are going to be dropped off by Carlos a few blocks down from the Convention Center. You will walk past the intersection down to the hotel on the corner and cross there. Carlos, what do you do next?” 

“I drive behind the building and wait for Jay,” he answered immediately. Out of all the moving pieces this plan required, she was the least concerned about his. Mal suspected that he’d been going over his role last night before he’d finally fallen asleep; she’d heard lots of tossing coming from the boys’ bed. Satisfied that _he_ at least knew his part, she turned sharply on the other two. 

“Jay and E! Mostly Jay!” 

The severity in her tone startled Evie, who dropped the packet of bobby pins she’d just opened up. “Mal!” 

“Sorry.” And Mal gave her probably-girlfriend her best apologetic smile to make up for it. “But while Carlos is waiting out back, what do you guys do?” 

“Walk inside. Get our names checked off on the list. And then blend in,” Evie answered, still tugging on Jay’s strands relentlessly with the brush. To his credit, he only made a face a few times. “And look like we have money willing to invest in her campaign.” 

“What are your names?” Mal quizzed, staring both of them down.

“I’m Azurine Bisman, the daughter of a wealthy socialite,” Evie recited, her face lighting up with excitement as she added product to Jay’s hair. “And by the way, M - don’t think I didn’t notice - you selected a very _blue_ name for me.” 

Mal willed her cheeks not to heat up. She’d chosen the name specifically for it’s blue theme, mostly because Evie’s hair had been on her mind, but also for stupid, sappy, sentimental reasons. Evie’s blue hair was the first time she’d really opened up to Mal. And that was a damn miracle all on its own. “You’re mine, Blue,” Mal growled. “This party isn’t gonna change that.” 

“I dunno.” Evie’s smile faded slightly. “If I fail…”

“You’ll still be apart of this family,” Mal finished fiercely. As much as she wanted to succeed - _needed_ to succeed - these three weren’t gonna get thrown to curb for screwing up. She wanted to take down her mother, not become her. “I promise, E.” 

“Can we change my name?” Jay asked suddenly, shifting in his pressed suit. “It’s stupid.” 

Cackling, Mal shook her head several times. She knew she’d been an asshole when she’d picked Jay’s name, and she didn’t care. “No, we can’t change it. It’s on the guest list. Besides, it makes me laugh.” 

“Why'd you have to go with Demarcus?” Jay huffed, his expression a cross between irritation and amusement. "You know I prefer shorter names." 

“Don't worry, Jay, it's very classy,” Carlos offered with a grin. The freckled boy had attitude, too, Mal had discovered lately. And she definitely liked it when Sassy Carlos came out to play. 

“Fucking fantastic.” Jay stepped forward some, probably to beat Mal’s ass, but Evie pushed him back. 

“I’m not done!” She attacked him with the product again, pulling back some of the strands on top to form a small bun. “You - can - move - when - I - tell - you - to - move!” With each word, she forcefully ran the brush through another time. 

“Eves,” Jay complained. “She named me Demarcus. I don't fit a fancy name like that! _”_

“Tell them your last name,” Mal urged with another cackled, clapping her hands together. 

“Nope.” Jay glared harder, daggers practically shooting from his eyeballs. It was exactly the kind of reaction that Mal relished from him. Some of her stress was momentarily pushed to the side as she watched him. 

“Wait, what is it?” Evie looked from Mal to Jay, her bobby pins paused in midair. “Jay, tell me. I wanna know! What did she name you?”  

Mal finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Pleschat!” she burst out with a grin. “His name is Mr. Demarcus Pleschat!” 

“That -” Carlos snorted, crinkling his nose in what looked like disgust, “- is a very long name.”

Jay threw a spare bobby pin in his boyfriend’s direction. “And you were the one who got it on the list! You couldn’t have helped me out? Changed it?” 

But Carlos - the little shit -  just laughed. 

The rest of the morning rushed by in a mess of bobby pins from Evie, orders from Mal, and all around grumbling from Jay. Carlos stayed out of the way, which didn’t surprise any of them, looking at the Convention Center’s security footage on his laptop to find the best route for Jay to take out back without looking suspicious. He also kept talking about the files and something-bites versus other-something-bites and all sorts of techy language that made Mal’s head spin. At least he seemed to understand it; maybe they really would pull this off.

Evie and Jay were both dressed in full hair and makeup by the time noon rolled around. Now that they were both standing in their stiff clothes, Evie conceded that she might’ve jumped the gun _a little_ on preparations. Mal didn’t care. The more time she got to stare at Evie in that dress, the better. 

The blue-haired girl had really outdone herself. She’d managed to put together a figure cutting, sapphire satin dress that fell off the shoulders in the most tasteful way possible. With her dark makeup and striking updo, Evie could’ve passed as at least twenty-five. And Mal had never wanted to kiss her more. 

“I’m proud of you,” Mal said during a quiet moment, rubbing the other girl’s shoulders gently. “You look great. You did good.” 

“Well,” Evie laughed, tipping her head back. “I did _well.”_  The interaction reminded Mal of a similar one all those months ago, when she’d corrected Jay’s grammar. 

“Whatever, princess.” Mal’s voice had gone soft, her chin resting on Evie’s shoulder. Unable to help herself, she pressed a gentle kiss there, glancing up to see if she’d overstepped. But Evie didn’t look upset; on the contrary, her eyes were wide and her cheeks pink. 

“So that’s what it’s like when a girl kisses you,” she breathed, tucking Mal’s hair behind her ear. 

“Believe me, princess,” Mal purred. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” She waited for Evie to correct her grammar again, but the girl pulled Mal gently out from behind her instead, capturing Mal’s lips with her own. And just like that, Evie was kissing her.

“You’ve got lipstick on your face,” Evie whispered as she pulled away, doing her best to wipe it off. 

“I don’t care.” 

“I can’t fail you today.” Evie tugged at the hem of her dress, sighing. “I can’t. Mal, this means so much to you.” 

But for the first time in a very, very long time, revenge on her mother was the last thing on Mal’s mind. Evie’s eyes and lips and voice took up all the space, blooming in her chest. “You can’t fail me, princess,” she promised. 

And that was the sheer and utter truth. 

* * *

 

**~J~**

 

Jay understood now why he preferred drop-crotch sweats and leather jackets over fancy suits. As he and Evie rode over to the Convention Center, he felt himself sweating in the worst places from the unbreathable fabric and starched pants. 

“Stop messing with yourself,” Evie hissed. “People are gonna think you have a boner.” 

Jay huffed, resisting the urge to run his hands through his hair - Evie would probably murder him if he messed it up now. “Well, I think a mistimed boner would be way better than wearing these pants. You did a great job with them, Eves, but fuck, they’re tight.” 

“I know.” Up front, Carlos grinned and glanced in the rearview mirror. “I’ve been admiring your ass all morning.” 

Jay winked, tossing his head. “Well, of course.” He blinked several times, still trying to get used to the blue contacts that Evie had placed ever so carefully in his eyes. He had to admit, when he glanced in the mirror, he could see how the changes might fool someone who hadn’t seen him in years  - what with the dark eyeliner around his eyes and the gentle contouring of his cheeks and all. Still, the doubts persisted - what if it wasn’t enough? What if he still looked like, well… Jay? 

“You both look hot as hell,” Carlos cut in, probably doing his best to sound reassuring. “I’ll be waiting for you out back, okay, Jay?” 

“Yeah.” Jay nodded, spinning the ring on his finger out of habit. “Just so you know, ‘Los, I’m gonna call Mal as soon as I get the hard drive, and she can text you when I’m coming. If anyone asks, it’s a ‘work call’.” 

“At least you won’t have to pretend that your boss is annoying,” Carlos joked, turning the corner. And Jay grinned in spite of himself. 

“Mal would punch you if she heard that,” he laughed.

“Well, she isn’t here, is she?” 

Evie cleared her throat, pointing out the window. “We’re almost there. Carlos, pull over by the hotel, alright?” 

“Gotcha.” 

Before Jay got out of the car, he reached up and gave his boyfriend’s arm an extra squeeze. “I’ll be back in a flash,” he promised, willing it to be true. “We’re gonna get those files for Mal, and then be home in time for dinner. Or at least a midnight snack.” 

“I believe you.” Carlos pushed the brimmed hat that Evie had insisted he wear a little higher, and they made eye contact. “Seriously. Go kick some ass. Dude.” And then he pulled away.  

Glancing over at Evie, Jay shook his head. Normally, he would’ve offered his arm and led her across the street, but they were playing strangers tonight. Even still, he wanted to say one last thing before they assumed their characters for the next few hours. 

“You look great tonight, Eves. You’ve worked hard.” 

A grateful smile spread across her face. She looked stunning, as usual, and he’d greatly enjoyed the look on Mal’s face when the blue-haired girl had finally emerged from the bathroom. Plus, he’d been pretty certain that he’d caught Mal wiping traces of Evie’s lipstick off her face before they left, too. It was always nice to see Mal happy. 

The light switched, the walk sign turned on, and Jay watched Evie strut out into the street ahead of him. He stayed behind, watching her join the handful of others in the crosswalk. 

 _Good luck, Princess,_ he wished quietly. 

The Convention Center was larger than he remembered. Maybe it was just the cars lined up out front or the dozens of banners and signs promoting “Moors for Governor”, but the place also had a foreboding feel. Not that Jay was scared in the slightest. This was just another gig - a really big street corner full of really rich punks that he had to steal from. This, at least, was something he was actually _good_ at. 

In the lobby of the Convention Center, a long table had been set up with men and women to check the incoming sponsors off lists. Jay scanned the line, trying to spot Evie up ahead. He caught her eye just as she was leaving the table and heading through the next set of doors, but she didn’t give any signs that she recognized him. The coldness in her stare after all those gentle hand squeezes in the car gave him chills and reminded him of the _Old Evie -_ the one that had appraised him so disgustedly at Hell Hall for the first time. 

 _Snap out of it,_ Jay told himself. _You’ve got a job to do._

When he stepped up to the table himself, Jay crossed his fingers and hoped that Carlos had pulled through. 

“Name?” the woman asked, her pen poised against the clipboard with sheets and sheets of names. 

“Demarcus -” For a split second, Jay’s mind went blank and he forgot the ridiculous last name Mal had saddled him with it.

_It started with  a “p”..._

“Sir?” The woman behind the table looked irritated now, although not entirely suspicious. 

To stall for time, Jay flashed her his most charming smile, leaning in close. “Shame you can’t join us inside. With everyone all dressed up, I mean. People really came out for this, didn’t they?” 

She gave him a cold stare. “I’m working the event. I just need your name, sir. The Moors Campaign needs to check that you’re on her list for tonight.” 

“Pleschat!” Jay said in a sudden burst of genius, thanking whatever lucky stars were hanging over him, whatever diety, maybe his dead mother or just sheer fucking luck. “Demarcus Pleschat, ma'am. Sorry for the trouble.” He smiled again, hoping to smooth over the blunder. Stupid fucking Mal and her stupid fucking names. 

The women looked a little disappointed to turn over a few pages and mark a little square with her pen, but Jay couldn’t help letting out his breath. Carlos had pulled through. 

“You want to help sponsor Ms. Moor’s campaign?” The woman looked him over again doubtfully. Jay reckoned very few young adults wanted to spend their lucky fortune on some political campaign. Better put her doubts to rest before she raised even more concerns. 

“My Dad owns one of the major oil companies in the state,” he lied smoothly. “We were both really moved by Ms. Moors speech on child trafficking laws. See,” the thief lowered his voice. “My mother was involved in a horrible incident upstate when she was a kid, and it’s really made an impact on her.” 

Lying. He was good at lying, too. 

The woman’s spektism faded a little and she fastened a wristband around his wrist, nodding. He’d made it past phase one.

_Which was probably the easiest one of them all._

The interior of the Convention Center had been turned into propaganda central. Posters and flags and pictures screamed at attendees from all sides, as if they might forget why they’d even come to this thing in the first place. Round tables - the kind that were too high for chairs but a little awkward to stand at - had been set up all around the massive room. Even the place settings stayed true to the theme of political persuasion, with Would-Be Governor Moor’s campaign slogan slapped on everything from centerpieces to napkins. 

Jay took a moment to absorb everything, letting his eyes drift around the room. He located Evie on the far end, talking animatedly with a group of men and women. She didn’t seem to be having any trouble blending in. The taller boy grabbed a plate of food, knowing Mal would probably flip her shit if she knew. But Maleficent was nowhere to be seen, and he had to at least look busy until he found her. 

Mal definitely had not prepared him for the size of the place. How was he supposed to find her mother in this crowd? She was probably knee deep in actual prospective supporters, with her computer stashed away safely in its little black bag - far away from his sticky, ill-intentioned fingers. 

Deciding to warm up his skills, Jay practiced slipping the plastic cutlery into his pocket. He had confidence in himself; he knew he was probably the best thief in town. And that’s why - when he finally spotted Mal’s mother weaving her way through the crowd and shaking hands with various important-looking people - he didn’t hesitate to start walking closer. 

At first glance, she didn’t seem to be carrying anything at all. Her black dress looked sharp and official, but Jay couldn’t help noting that the high neckline gave it a slight gothic feel. In fact, he almost took out his phone and texted Mal - figuring she’d get a laugh out of it, too - before deciding against it. Mal probably wasn’t in a laughing mood. Jay could practically hear her pacing, walking around their apartment and yanking on her hair in frustration. She hated not being apart of things, especially when they were important. 

“... glad you could make it. Yes, yes, quite a turn out.” 

The voice triggered a serious sense of deja vu. Maleficent Moors stood only a few feet from him now, nodding and speaking with an older woman whose blue dress practically swallowed her whole. Her eyes swept over the people nearby, landing on him for half a second before moving on. 

 The last time Jay had seen this woman in person, he’d been hiding outside her house in the bushes, listening to her yell at Mal about what a disappointing daughter she’d turned out to be. That had been the night they’d decided to run away. That had been the night they’d finally had enough. He’d scaled the side of the house with the drainpipe, busted open Mal’s window, and they’d escaped into the night. 

Jay shook himself quickly. Now was definitely not the time to get caught up in the past. And seeing as Maleficent definitely didn’t have the computer case on her, he needed a Plan B. Someone tapped his shoulder, and he stiffened, fists already curled, but before he could determine whether or not to strike, a familiar voice hissed in his ear, 

“Press room.”

_Evie._

Jay turned and found her standing nearby, her attention fixed on a pamphlet she suddenly seemed very interested in. He needed more information; one word just wasn’t going to cut it. Plucking her wallet from the inside pocket of her purse, the boy knelt down and pretended to pick it up.

“Excuse me, Miss?” He held it out to her. “I think you dropped this.”

Evie’s eyes narrowed for half a second before she assumed a polite, surprised expression. “Oh. I’m glad _no one slipped it out of my bag._ ” 

“Aha.” Jay did his best to give her a sheepish smile. “Did you happen to see a bathroom around here? Maybe past the… press room?” He read her face for any kind of understanding, but it was as blank as the sheets of paper Carlos kept organized in the back of his old school binders. 

“Oh, no, I didn’t.” 

This was so stupid. They weren’t going to get anywhere if they couldn’t talk normally. 

“What did you mean about the press room?” he asked in a low voice, his stance still cool and casual. “Where is it? Is the computer there?” ” 

Apparently, Evie agreed with him because after a moment of hesitation, she lowered her voice, too. “I overheard someone on her team say that they were charging it in there.” Evie cocked her head towards the hallway. “Apparently she’s doing some sort of a slide presentation later tonight.”

“Think there’s any chance the press room is _not_ blocked off by security?” Jay tried, shaking his head. 

“You really think we’re that lucky?” Evie glanced around with a sigh. Maleficent had moved past them now, hardly bothering a second glance in their direction. “She didn’t see you, right?” 

“Nah.” Jay wished that they’d spent more time figuring out how to obtain the hard drive than all that time they spent worrying about him getting recognized. “I have to take these contacts out, too. They’re not doing anything but making my eyes water, and I think we’ve pretty much established that she’s got way more people here than we thought she would.” 

Evie looked torn for a moment. “Fine, I guess you can take them out. I was lying earlier; I actually did see a bathroom down the hall.” 

“Asshole,” he muttered just low enough for her to hear. He didn’t mean it, though. His mind was already racing, trying to scramble together a new plan off the top of his head to get into that damn press room. But maybe the plan was the problem. He never used plans, never liked plans. Jay ran off almost solely on impulse. And if he were being stupid, he would probably snag a press pass and try his hand at acting like he belonged.

“I know that look.” Evie studied him carefully. “Jay…” 

“I’ll be careful.” 

And with that, he strode off, his eyes sweeping the room for a reporter, a journalist, anybody at all who might have his golden ticket into the room. 

Funny enough, the bathroom proved to be just the place. He’d gone in to take out his contacts, but he was presented with an even better situation than he could’ve possibly planned for. A reporter - or at least, a wannabe one anyway - who didn’t look much older than Jay himself was standing over one of the urinals. Immediately, Jay’s eyes went to his back pocket, where a lanyard draped out carelessly, hooked on a white laminated card that read “intern” next to a local news channel logo. 

_Score, score, score._

This was his game now; he made the rules in the pickpocketing world. If - _when -_ he got his hands on that lanyard, he’d be inside the press room before Maleficent even had a chance to make another circle around the room. He could see from the sink that the Intern card didn’t have any sort of photo ID or even a personalized name. They’d probably printed them out right before the event for all their not-yet-reporters. 

Confidence restored, Jay busied himself at the sink with his contacts until an older gentleman entered the bathroom. After a few beats, the thief started moving, timing his walk to the paper towel dispenser perfectly, turning everyone’s bathroom trip into a three-way collision.

“Sorry,” Jay muttered as the intern boy turned his head sharply, clearly not expecting to be hit from both sides. In the confusion, Jay managed to transfer the pass - lanyard and all - to his own pocket smooth as silk. And just because the universe seemed to be looking out for him, the old man decided to grab the boy’s shoulders for stability, issuing loud (if a bit irritated) apologies that surely covered up any slight misstep in the thief’s move. 

_Bingo._

Jay escaped the bathroom with his innocence, his eyesight (those contacts had been a bitch) and a key to the press room. Oh, and a bit of an ego. That move had been perfect, the whole scenario had practically fallen into his lap. Maybe the world wanted him to succeed tonight, after all. 

He located the press room no problem - mostly because there was a big paper sign that read “press only”. 

 _Ha,_ Jay laughed to himself. _That’s funny._

After many, many years of getting into places he shouldn’t, he’d developed a sort of checklist for acting like he belonged: no fidgeting, no apologizing, straight shoulders, and casual expression. He hoped tonight the list would prove just as successful as all the times before. 

With the lanyard hanging securely around his neck, he walked past the security guards without paying them a second glance. They certainly paid him one, but Jay deduced that the stares were more pitying than suspicious. 

“You here to finish moving the cameras?” one of the guards called, gesturing to the padded cases. On chairs and in the corner, cameras had been carefully laid out and taken apart, with the lenses covered and separate. “That other intern left for the bathroom, and we haven’t seen him since.”

“Yeah, I was just in there. They said I should come here and help him out.” Jay strode over to the cameras, opening one of the padded carriers and glancing inside. The lenses most likely fit into the smaller compartments, so he started there. Jay glanced around, trying to orient himself. He hadn’t expected the press room to be _empty_. 

“Did Moors want you guys to film the presentation?” the other guard asked, one hand resting casually on the doorframe. They were definitely at ease now. 

“She’s still wishy washy on that,” Jay improvised, hoping it didn’t sound to on the spot. Just for good measure, he added, “I’m just an intern, though. She wouldn’t give me the time of day if she had twenty watches strapped to her wrist.” 

It did the trick. The guards laughed, nodding appreciatively. “We hear you, kid. Don't worry. It gets better.” 

There were footsteps in the hall and both men turned, assuming their more rigid stances. Jay couldn’t see into the hallway from his position, but he could hear. 

“I think I left my badge in here,” came the tentative voice. “When I was doing the cameras.” 

“Kid,” one of the guards sighed. “They told you to keep that thing around your neck.” 

With both guards turned away, Jay started glancing around the room for Maleficent’s computer. There were plenty of computers lying around - on the floor or poking out of bags, and once again, Jay kicked himself for not asking Mal for more details. The guards were still in conversation with the bathroom intern, but if Jay was going to slip that hard drive into his pocket, it had to be now. 

_Black case, charging, black case -_

And at the far end of the room, all by itself, a black computer had been propped up on a chair where a long white cord connected it to the outlet. On the case, a sticker read “Moors for Governor”. 

_If that’s not it, I’m gonna kill someone._

After one last glance at security, Jay carefully picked his way around tripods and notepads, reaching into the computer bag and feeling around. His hand touched several cords, some sort of soft cleaning cloth, and then what could only be the hard drive. When he pulled it out, Jay was pleased to find that, yes, he’d somehow managed to locate Maleficent Moor’s precious hard drive, complete with its black protective case. 

 _Got it,_ he thought triumphantly as he slid it into his pocket. _Phase two complete. I’m a motherfucking god._

“Can I just look for it?” the boy in the hall was saying, sounding really upset. 

“Can’t hurt, I guess.” 

The security stepped aside and the boy from the bathroom entered the press room, looking nervous and a bit guilty - automatically breaking at least two rules off Jay’s list for acting confident. If anyone were looking like the suspect here, Jay was one hundred percent sure that this boy would be questioned first. 

“Hey - you were in the bathroom earlier,” the boy said, noticing Jay.  

“They sent me to finish your job,” Jay lied with a shrug. He figured the best way to play off this situation was friendly. “You’re kinda new, aren’t you?”

“First week.” 

 _Could smell it off you a mile away,_ Jay thought to himself with a smile. _I could do this in my sleep._

“Everyone’s a bit nervous their first week,” he said, doing his best to come off as comforting. “Don’t sweat it. I’m sure they’ve got more passes. Just go ask.” 

“It’ll look bad.” The boy sighed, glancing around the room again. “I was hoping I left it here.” 

Jay pretended to think for a moment, an awful and ingenious idea brewing at the back of his mind. “Hey, you know what?” He took off the pass around his neck and held it out to the boy. “I’ll say I lost mine, alright? You finish packing up here, and I’ll go get another.” 

The intern looked stunned, but he allowed Jay to put the badge around his neck. This had just earned the thief so many damn brownie points. Even the security guards looked rather proud and pleased as Jay walked out. He couldn’t help saluting them as he passed. 

“See you guys later.” 

“You’re a decent kid,” the first guy said. “Wish they were all like you.” 

 _No,_ Jay grinned to himself, patting the hard drive in his pocket. _No, you really don’t._

Now that one of the hardest parts was over, Jay felt a new shot of elation bubble up inside him. Remembering his promise to call Mal, he dialed her up, and she answered on the first ring. 

“That was fast,” Jay muttered with a shake of his head. “Have you been like waiting by the phone or something?” 

“Yes!” she huffed, sounding slightly more relieved than annoyed. “And if I was fast, you definitely weren’t. You were taking forever. Did you get it?” 

“Of course I did,” he said, turning another corner. “Did you doubt me? I’m heading out soon.” Jay knew he was being slightly vague, but he had to be. Even though the hallway seemed empty, he didn’t want anyone accidentally overhearing him now. Not when they’d gotten this close. 

“I just texted Carlos,” Mal told him. “He’s gonna glitch the cameras for thirty seconds when he sees you at the door. That should give you enough time to get over to the car and back without raising too many suspicions. He says he’s in a perfect blind spot, whatever that means.” 

Jay could see the door now, with its red light-up exit sign hovering above it. “I’m almost there.” 

“You’re at door number five, right?” Mal sounded alarmed. “That’s where he’s parked.” 

“Don’t worry,” the thief assured her. “I’m right where I need to be.” 

The whole transferring of the hard drive was rather anticlimactic. Jay walked out the door, Carlos rolled down the window with a big smile, and he handed the thing over. At the sight of his boyfriend, though, Jay wished suddenly that he didn’t have to go back inside when the data transfer was over. 

“How long is this gonna take?” he asked, leaning on the edge of the car window and watching Carlos go to work. 

The freckled boy hummed, laughing softly. “Depends on how many files she’s got on here.”

Jay watched, half mesmerized by the way Carlos seemed to know exactly what to do. Pickpocketing might be his game, but the computer world definitely belonged to Carlos de Vil. 

“How’s Mal doing?” Jay figured the purple-haired girl had probably called Carlos once or twice during the course of things. She’d wanted to be in the car, too, but they’d all decided against it; it was just too risky to have her this close to her mother. 

“She’s called me a few times,” Carlos said, still looking at his computer which now had a loading bar. “She sounds like she’s holding, up though. Did you see her mom?” 

“Yeah.” Jay remembered Maleficent’s dress, and grinned. “She looks like something out of the Addams Family. But like - blonde.” 

Carlos snorted. “Interesting combination. How’s Evie?” 

“Amazing.” Jay shook his head. “She’s so natural in there, dude. It’s scary.”

“I bet she’s making her mother proud,” Carlos said darkly. “Acting like the socialite she was always supposed to be.” 

“Sure.” Jay couldn’t help the sarcastic note that slipped into his voice. “She’s teaming up with a gang full of thieves and sneaking in to a party. Her mother would be thrilled.” 

The time seemed to pass at a weird pace. One moment, the seconds seemed to crawl by as Jay slowly watched the bar on Carlos’ screen fill inch by inch. Then, Carlos would strike up a conversation and ten minutes would pass all too quickly. When the bar finally filled and Carlos disconnected the hard drive, Jay prepared himself to dive back into the scene. It was so easy to let his guard fall around Carlos; he couldn’t let himself get careless. 

“I’ll stall the cameras for another thirty seconds,” Carlos promised, squeezing Jay’s arm. “That should be enough for you to get back inside. You propped the door open, right?” 

“With the rug.” Jay tucked the hard drive back into his pocket, giving his boyfriend a salute before heading back into the building. “Don’t worry about me. It’s downhill from here.” 

The hallways were just as empty as before, and Jay could only hope that the press room was, too. A strange sense of foreboding came over the thief as he rounded the turn, walking back the way he had come earlier. The security guards from earlier were nowhere to be seen, and an eery calm had descended over the hallway. 

 _They’re all just watching Moors speak,_ Jay told himself. Mal’s mother had been slotted to give a speech, hadn’t she? 

He ducked back into the press room, noticing that the majority of the cameras had been moved. Maybe that intern had proven himself to be useful after all. But Jay was much more concerned with that chair in the corner of the room, where Maleficent’s computer had been charging earlier.

_Careful now._

Jay was just leaning over the bag, reading to slip the thing back where it belonged, when the hair on the back of his neck prickled, and he was hit with the sudden awareness that he wasn’t the only one in the room. 

“Jayesh.”

Jay grit his teeth, his fists clenching. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready for a fight. He turned slowly, drawing himself up taller, until he was face to face with Maleficent Moors. 

“Jayesh,” Maleficent said again. “It was rather bold of you to come here tonight. Did you just assume I wouldn’t recognize you? Did you really think you’d changed _that_ much?” 

“I was kinda hoping,” Jay shot back, feeling like he could spit acid. He knew he should feel a little bit more afraid, but now that she was standing right there, all the anger came rushing back into his limbs and words. “You know, since you’re a selfish bitch.” 

Maleficent clicked her tongue. “Young man, you’re already in hot water,” she warned, her eyes boring into him. “You’ve stolen my property, and I think we can both agree that you’re not the one with the power here.” 

Powerless. Just like his dad had always made him feel. Just like every fucking adult in the whole world had always told him he would be. “Fuck you!” Jay bolted for the door. 

“Security!” Maleficent’s voice echoed off the walls, and suddenly, Jay’s path was blocked as the guards from earlier slammed him against the wall in a headlock. 

“Search him,” Maleficent commanded. “I caught him trying to steal from my computer bag.” 

The thief felt his cheek being pressed against the surface, as hands roughly plunged their way into every pocket and pant leg. His heart was pounding now, his vision swimming. Memories threatened to pour back into his subconscious, of other assaults, of other hands, and he struggled with everything in him to lash out. 

“Let me - the fuck - go!” he hissed angrily, wrenching against the men’s grip with all his might. “Fucking hell! Let me go! I didn’t do anything!” 

It was a desperate and empty lie. 

It didn’t take long at all for the men to find the hard drive, plucking it out of his pocket. 

“Is this it, ma’am?” Jay heard one of them ask, as the arm on his neck pressed him further into the wall. 

“You thieving brat.” Maleficent spat. “Stop struggling. You’ve got nowhere to go.” 

But Jay couldn’t stop struggling. He _couldn’t._ He fought with everything in him, pressing back against the guards and their arms - so many arms  - until he made contact with something. There was a crack, and then a sudden sharp pain as they slammed his head into the wall. 

 _I’m not gonna let them win,_ Jay thought vaguely as his vision darkened. _I can’t. I gotta get home._

And then nothing. 

 

When Jay came to, the lights popped in front of his eyes. One glance around told him that he hadn’t left the press room. His head ached with a constant, dull thrumming, but he at least the security no longer had his face grinding into the wall. Testing out his limbs, Jay was frustrated to find that his arms were still being restrained behind his back. After a moment of confusion, the thief realized he’d been cuffed. Maleficent sat nearby, staring at him with that cold, constant glare that Mal sometimes spoke about. 

“Where is my daughter?”

The thief wasn’t sure his voice would work, but he tried it anyway. “Excuse me?” His throat was sore from yelling. 

“You heard me.” Maleficent narrowed her eyes. “I know she wasn’t stupid enough to get herself kidnapped, especially after you two disappeared at the same time. Where is she?” 

They could torture him, beat him, throw his ass in jail, but Jay would never, ever rat Mal out like that. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He laughed a little - a dark, humorless laugh that increased the pounding in his head. 

“You’re gonna tell me,” Maleficent ordered, “or else I’m going to call the police. You’ll go to jail, Jayesh. Do you understand?” 

“I don’t care.” 

The woman pursed her lips, fury written all over her unnaturally smooth face. She reached into her purse. “Take my phone. Call my daughter. Let me talk to her.” 

“I can’t,” Jay said, hardly daring to break eye contact. “I have these handcuffs on, see, and that effectively cuts off my ability to call anyone.” He suddenly understood that Maleficent didn’t know that he had an accomplice in the building. Evie. She had to get out before Mal’s mother sniffed her out, before Evie called him wondering where he was and they found her, too, before she was in just as much trouble as he was. 

“Still an asshole, I see.” Maleficent leaned in close. “I will find my daughter. Whether you help me or not. But you can do yourself a favor right now and dial her up, or you’re in for a very rough night, young man.” 

“Fine.” Jay needed to call Evie, and if Maleficent was giving him the opportunity to use the phone, then he would take it. “You’ll have to uncuff me, though.” 

The woman looked uneasy, eyeing him like he might try and bolt. Which was fair. Still, he knew that it was pointless to even entertain the idea of escape. The security guards were still standing by the entrance, the room had no windows, and while Jay knew he could fight, he couldn’t take them all on at once. The odds were just too steep.

“Please,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “Where would I go? If I could get out, I already would’ve.” 

“You’ll tell me the number,” Maleficent decided. “And I’ll dial it.” 

“She won’t speak to you.” At least at the moment, Jay had a little bit of say in the situation. A little bit of leverage. “But she will speak to me. If you get on the phone, she’ll run right out of town, and you’ll never see her again.” 

“Some friend she is,” her mother laughed, and Jay thought privately that the whole gothic witch joke wasn’t quite so funny anymore. “Fine. I’ll dial, and _you’ll_ speak.” 

Wetting his lips, Jay took a deep breath and slowly spoke a phone number, so very glad that Mal had insisted they all memorize the group’s contact information. Thinking quickly, Jay estimated that - when Evie picked up - he’d have a few seconds before Maleficent caught on and ended the call. Hopefully that would be enough to get his message through. 

She didn’t pick up on the first ring or the second. 

 _Come on, come on, come on,_ Jay begged as the tone sounded a fourth time. Mal had told them over and over again to keep their phones on all night. He had to warn her, she had to get out, they couldn’t -

“Hello?” 

He had never been so grateful to hear anyone’s voice in his whole life. “Hey, it’s me.” Jay took a deep breath. “Don’t talk. Just listen to me.” 

Maleficent held the phone close to his face, leaning close to listen despite the call being put on speaker.

“Jay-” Evie tried to say, but he cut her off again. 

“Do exactly as I say.” Jay glanced over at Maleficent, who had her eyes fixed on him relentlessly. “Get out. Get out. Get out now! Warn Mal.  Don’t worry about me! Tell ‘Los - _fuck.”_ Mal’s mother had grabbed him by his hair now, yanking his head back as she ended the call. 

“I’m calling the police.” Her eyes were practically glowing with rage. “You insolent, insubordinate, asshole of a child!” 

“Ma’am,” one of the guards interrupted. “It sounded like he said there are others here. Should we seal the place?” 

“And let everyone know security has been breached by a bunch of teenagers?” the woman snapped. “Tell your fellow muscle-men to watch for anyone around his age trying to get out. She sounded female on the other line.” 

Jay just sat back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. He’d warned Evie, who would warn Mal, and if they knew what was good for them, they’d get the hell out of town. 

 _Don’t be dumb,_ he prayed. _Don’t do something stupid, Mal._

* * *

 

**~C~**   
  


Carlos wasn’t expecting Evie to burst through the exit and slide into the passenger seat. That hadn’t been the plan. 

According to Mal, Jay was supposed to call him when he’d met up with Evie again, and they’d meet him where he’d dropped them off earlier, near the hotel. But Jay hadn’t called yet, and he’d gotten kind of distracted looking through the files he’d copied, so when Evie banged on the window for him to unlock the door, he’d nearly had a heart attack. 

“Shit, Evie,” he groaned when she scrambled inside. “I didn’t expect -” 

“Drive.” Her cheeks were flushed. “Drive, Carlos, dammit, drive.” 

The car squealed as he peeled out, fear squeezing at his lungs. “Evie, what happened?” he kept asking. “What happened? Evie?” 

“Got a call,” she panted. “From an unknown number - Carlos - he wanted to tell you something - but they hurt him - he just told me to get out, to get out - so I ran -” 

“ _What?”_ Carlos didn’t want to know. He didn’t want her to confirm what he already feared. “Evie, where’s Jay?” 

“Something happened.” Evie turned to him, her wide. “They caught on. He’s fucked. He’s so fucked.” 

Carlos wasn’t quite sure how he managed to keep the car in the right lane. His hands had started shaking, and it took everything in him to keep the wheel straight. “Okay, okay, okay,” he chanted. “We have to do something. We have to help him. We have to call Mal.” 

It seemed like the next step. Their _only_ step. 

Evie looked just as shaken as he felt, but she fumbled with her clutch in the passenger seat and eventually produced her phone. 

“M,” she gasped a few moments later, and Carlos noticed how bloodless his fingers had become as they gripped the steering wheel still tighter. “M, we have a problem. Your mom - no, no I’m okay - but I - I think she got Jay.” There was silence for a few seconds before Evie spoke again. “I got a call. And when I picked up - it was him - and he told me to get out, to get out. He kept telling me to get out. And then it sounded like someone hit him or something. Mal, we have to do something.” 

“What is she saying?” Carlos wished he could hear, wished he knew what to do. His whole mind - which was usually so sharp - felt dull and numb. They hadn’t planned for this. He hadn’t planned for this. He always had a plan. He always had a plan! Why didn’t he have a plan? 

 _What now?_ his brain kept screaming. _What now? What now?_

“Get us home,” Evie said, putting a hand on Carlos’ shoulder. “Mal says to come home. We’ll regroup there.”

By the time they were stumbling back into their apartment, Carlos wondered if he might pass out. His whole head felt fuzzier than it ever had before, including that time he’d passed out from dehydration last fall when he’d forgotten to pay the water bill and had been  locked in his room for a week. 

“Carlos.” Mal’s face was set into a hard, grim line, but she grabbed him and pulled him close anyway. “E.” She held them both for a moment, and Carlos had never been so grateful for her embrace. He hated touch, feared it, but somehow, Mal’s arms were the only thing keeping him upright. “We’re gonna be okay.” 

“They’ve got Jay.” Carlos knew he sounded childish, stupid, dumb, but at the moment, he couldn’t have stopped it from coming out of his mouth for all the money in the world. “She’s got him, Mal.” 

“I know.” The purple-haired girl held him at arm’s length suddenly, looking right into his eyes. “And Carlos? We’re going to get him back, okay? She can’t have him. He doesn’t belong to her. Got it?” 

And he nodded. 

“So what’s the plan?” Evie looked pale. She held onto Mal’s other arm like her life depended on it, and perhaps it did. “What do we do?” 

“My mother is a bitch,” Mal sighed. “But there’s only one way that she would’ve ever let Jay call you, E.” 

“She let him call me?” The blue-haired girl blinked, confused. “No, no, Mal, she took it away from him. He made his grunt - like she’d hurt him -” 

“Because she realized that he wasn’t talking to me.” Mal tugged at her hair, her teeth worrying her lower lip. “Jay and I come as a matching set, even she knows that. You said it came in as an unknown number, right? It was her phone. She knows he has contact with me. And if she wants me, she can have me.” 

“No.” Evie shook her head wildly, and even Carlos grabbed her arm again. 

“Mal, there’s no way we’re letting you go down there.” 

“M, it’s too risky. Look what happened to Jay!” 

But the purple-haired girl broke away from both of them, looking determined. “I’m just gonna call her, okay? Just to make sure she doesn’t call the cops or something. If Jay gets handed over to them… I don’t know if we’ll be able to get him back. He’s not exactly an innocent man.” 

She had a point, and Carlos knew the rational part of his brain agreed. Jay had stolen Maleficent’s property. Not to mention, he was a punk ass kid who’d lied to get into the building. If it was her word against his? They’d lose Jay to the law enforcement officers faster than they could blink. 

“Okay.” 

“Carlos?” Evie turned on him, her arms folded. “You’re willing to risk the chance that Maleficent might take both of them away from us?” 

“They can’t go to the cops, Evie.” Carlos tried not to imagine his boyfriend sitting behind bars, only getting to talk to him through that damn phone that he’d seen in movies, trying to reach him through the glass. “He can’t go to jail. Please.” 

And her shoulders dropped. “Fine.” 

They all stood around the phone while it rang, gripping hands tighter and tighter with every second that passed. 

“You’ve reached Maleficent Moors,” came the voice, and Carlos wondered if Jay was somewhere near her on the other end. If he shouted, would he be able to hear? “Who’s speaking?” 

“Mom?” 

There was dead silence for a long time.

“Maleficent?” Mal’s mom sounded - tearful? Concerned? Relieved? 

“Yeah.” Mal sounded younger suddenly, like a little girl. An ache had entered her voice now, hidden and pushed down, but never really erased. “Yeah, Momma, it’s me.” 

“Why haven’t you called?” She didn’t sound like an evil woman. To Carlos, she sounded almost… scared. Like she’d almost lost her daughter forever. It was hard work to remember all the horrible, awful things Mal and Jay had told him about her. “You just left, Maleficent, you just left!” 

“I know.” Mal looked down at the ground. “Mom, please don’t call the cops on Jay. Please.” 

On the other line, her mother’s voice lost some of it’s endearing compassion. “And why the hell shouldn't I?” she demanded. “He’s a thief. And a liar. And an asshole.” 

“I know,” the purple-haired girl said again, straightening up. She sounded like her usual hard self again. “But he’s my friend. And if you let him go… I’ll give you back everything we stole - every last file. You can win your election. I can live my life.” 

“You have the files?” Maleficent sounded on edge now. “I didn’t realize the boy had gotten them to you.” 

“He did.” Mal glanced over at the other two. “And I’m not afraid to use them. If you lay another hand on him or anything else that’s mine, you’ll regret it.” 

“Oh, Mal,” her mother clucked, sounding less alarmed now. “Don’t you know that those files are useless in court? They were obtained -” 

“Illegally, I know, I fucking know,” Mal spat, speaking quickly. She looked rather insane, with her eyes practically glowing from determination and maybe a little fear. “But maybe I won’t go to the police. Maybe I’ll go straight to the newspaper and the magazines and Mommy Dearest’s sponsors. Once the rumors start, there will be digging. And you know what they say, don’t you? Where’s there’s smoke… there’s fire.” 

All stayed quiet on Maleficent’s end for a long while before she finally spoke again. “Well,” she said dryly. “I guess my darling daughter has a point. Fine, Fine, I’ll do it. I’ll save that little street rat from jail this time. After my presentation is over, come to the Convention Center. Eleven-thirty p.m. sharp. One of my men will let you in through the back door. But mark my words, Maleficent Bertha, your little long-haired hoodlum will wind behind bars with or without my help. Him and his no-good bum of a father. They can share a cell and return to their interbreeding -” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Mal practically shrieked. “And don’t go near him or the rest of my family ever again. Do you understand?” 

“I _am_ your family.” 

“Only by blood.” And with that, Mal hung up the phone. She was still shaking with anger, and Evie wrapped an arm around her comfortingly. Carlos’ mind, however, stayed stuck on what Maleficent had said, replaying it. 

_Him and his no-good bum of a father... they can share a cell and return to their interbreeding…_

“Oh my god.” Carlos felt his heart drop as it finally clicked. He felt dizzy all over again. “Jay - his dad - _oh my god…_ Mal, you didn’t tell us.” 

She turned towards him, and it was clear she already knew exactly what he was talking about. “He didn’t want me to.” 

Carlos rubbed his face, angry at himself for not figuring it out, angry at them for telling him, but mostly, angry at the world for letting it happen to the one person who definitely didn’t deserve it - to Jay, _his Jay_ .  “I’m gonna kill his father. Oh my god, Mal, oh my _god.”_

“You’ll have to get in line,” the purple-haired girl sighed, looking tired. “Trust me, he and I both want to stick a knife in him just as badly. Maybe not a knife. He’s too good for that. I’ll strangle him. With my bare hands. 

Evie looked about as fucked as Carlos felt. Her eyes were wide, her face was pale, and her lips moved. He heard her whispering softly. “Jay… oh, Jay…”  

The other girl sighed, placing her hand on top of Evie’s. “I know. Look, Carlos, please don’t hold this against Jay. His demons are buried much deeper than even I know.” 

Carlos didn’t know what to think. His mind felt slow, sluggish, _hollow._ Jay… his chest and heart ached terribly, and he couldn’t focus, he couldn’t think. How could something so _cruel_ happen to the one person with the brightest smile, the warmest laugh. He understood now, at least a little, why Jay had to be flirty and cocky and everything but weak. And Jay’s dad - 

“Mal,” Carlos croaked, rubbing his chin. “Wh - where is his dad now? Jay’s, I mean - is he -” 

“In jail.” Mal sounded tired, defeated. He’d never heard her sound like that before. “After Jay and I disappeared, the authorities investigated to see where we went. They found nothing leading to us, but they certainly discovered a lot of child porn on Jafar’s computer. There were whole articles in all the papers, even the ones from surrounding towns. It was a bad time. I’ve never seen Jay so… torn up, confused, lost. God, if I never have to see that look on his face again, I’d be okay.” 

“I -” Carlos sucked in a sharp breath, glancing at Evie, who still hadn’t stopped whispering Jay’s name. “What about his mother? Did she know? Did she - oh, god, did she do it, too, Mal, please say -” 

“His mother is dead.” Mal leaned on the counter heavily. “I never met her, but Jay’s told me about her some. He’s got some earrings that were hers. And apparently, she had a pretty singing voice. She taught him a few Arabic lullabies. Jay can sing them if he’s drunk enough or soft enough. I think the - abuse - started after she was gone. Not that it’s an excuse for that disgusting trash heap of a human his dad is, though.” 

Carlos listened, but couldn’t find any new words to answer. He didn’t know what he _could_ say anymore. It was horrible, too horrible. But also… if Carlos was completely honest with himself… all too possible. He could see the traces of it in Jay’s behavior, in his mannerisms. It was like the final piece of a puzzle or the backstory of a tragic villain. It made _sense._ And Carlos hated that the most. “Why didn’t he tell me?” 

“Hey.” Mal shook her head, snapping her fingers to get his attention. “Listen to me. Jay trusts you. He just… likes to pretend that it didn’t happen. He carries a lot of guilt and a lot of… messed up feelings. He’s shoved it away. Don’t you dare take this personally, alright?” 

“It’s not fair.” Carlos’ voice sounded small and cracked. “His dad… that’s… that’s not fair. It shouldn’t happen. Not - not to him.” 

The purple-haired girl stayed quiet for several seconds, studying him. “Life’s not fair, de Vil. I thought that much was clear by now. If life was fair, our parents wouldn’t be pieces of shit, we wouldn’t be living in an apartment with fucking awful hot water, I’d drive a Jaguar or some fast shit, and Jay would be here. With us. Right now.” 

“I know.” Carlos turned away, staring out the window. 

“Hey!” Mal’s voice got sharper, and she straightened. “We can’t focus on the past right now. Whatever you’re feeling, shove it down. Jay’s still not safe. He’s with my mom, and God knows what she’s doing to him.” 

She was right, as she usually tended to be. “Okay.” Carlos forced all those feelings into a box and sealed it shut. He would address all this with Jay. Just… hopefully not through a glass window and a phone or whatever they showed in all those prison movies. 

* * *

 

**~E~**

 

_Get out. Get out. Get out._

Jay’s words wouldn’t stop playing in Evie’s head, over and over and over, as they sat and waited for eleven o’clock to roll around. She’d never heard one human being sound so _desperate._

Maybe she should’ve done something. Maybe she should’ve run back and tried to look for him instead of fleeing out the door. 

“It’s been a night, hasn’t it?” Mal asked quietly, leaning on the counter beside her. Evie had decided to make tea, partly to calm everyone down and partly because she didn’t have anything else better to do. 

“Yeah.” Evie flicked her gaze to the front door. Carlos had stepped outside a few minutes ago, and she could picture him at the railing, staring down at the cars in the parking lot with that awful, let down look on his face - as if the world had managed to fail him yet one more time. “Think he’s gonna be okay?” 

“It’s… a lot,” Mal told her honestly. “And to be honest, he’s not the one I’m worried about.” 

“I know.” 

Silence fell between again, and Evie watched the tiny bubbles start to form on the bottom of the pot of water. Her mind returned to thinking about Jay. She’d only been following directions, listening to his warnings, but he’d thought of her first. He could’ve called anyone, and he called her so she had a chance at getting to safety. That made her look really shitty in comparison. 

“What’s on your mind?” Mal nudged her gently, looking her over with those eyes that pulled all her thoughts to the surface. 

“I could’ve tried to find him,” Evie admitted finally.  “I could’ve searched for him and gotten him free. He would’ve done that for me.” 

“He would’ve.” Mal’s shoulders weren’t slumped anymore, but they still seemed to carry the weight of the world at the moment. “But it would’ve been stupid. You did the smart thing. You got out. It’s what he would’ve wanted. You wouldn’t have been able to save him anyway. I know my mother, and I know Jay. He tried to escape. He fought. The only reason he’s still there is because he knows he’s been beat.” 

“What if we can’t get him back?” Evie couldn’t help voicing it. She had to know, and she trusted Mal to at least be realistic. “I mean, I know you promised the files and all, but what if your mom doesn't care? What if she calls the police anyway? And they take him away. M… we don’t have enough money for a good lawyer. What would we do?”  

Mal’s eyes flashed with something that looked as close to fear as Evie had ever seen the girl show. “I - I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I really don’t know, E. I can’t imagine my life without him. He’d tell me to leave. He’d want me to get out of this town, away from her, but… I don’t think I could. We’ve stuck with each other all this time, and I couldn’t just bail now.” 

Evie tried to imagine Mal without Jay, but she couldn't seem to separate the two. They were a pair, a team. She'd never seen two people more devoted to each other beneath all the teasing and sarcasm. 

"He's gonna be okay," Evie tried to reassure her, hoping her voice didn't sound as thin as she thought it did. "He's - he's Jay." 

Mal nodded, rubbing her forehead a little. "Yeah. And now he's..." 

"Don't." Evie shook her head. "You have to stay positive. There could be a lot of bad outcomes tonight, but if we focus on them, we'll only drive ourselves mad." 

"Maybe." 

The water had started to boil now, and Evie delicately removed the pot from the stove, pouring it into mugs. The total and utter uncertainty in Mal’s voice killed her inside. For once, the purple-haired girl didn’t know what to do. 

“I should never have asked you guys to go in there,” Mal said, a bitterness lying beneath the surface. “I should’ve never made him go in there. He knew it was a bad idea. He told me. And I wouldn’t listen.” 

“You wanted to take your mother down.” Evie knew the feeling now - the angry, hateful resentment that built up deep down. “I get that. I do.” 

“Not only that.” Mal couldn’t seem to meet her gaze and she stared hard at the chipped tiles on the floor. “I wanted her to - I don’t know - see that I’m _better._ That I’m stronger. And -” her voice broke. “- and maybe she’d even apologize.” 

“Oh, M.” Evie had never seen Mal cry. She’d never seen Mal even come _close_ to crying. But there tears on Mal’s cheeks and anguish in her voice, and Evie felt every bit of it. “M, it’s okay.” 

“It’s not okay.” The girl hurriedly wiped her eyes with a groan. “Oh, God, it’s so not okay. This was the worst idea I’ve ever had. I never wanted to go to the police, Evie. I just wanted to rub it in her face. I wanted to have the leverage for once in my damn life.”

“Leverage,” Evie said softly, smiling a little. “I should’ve known. You’re all about the leverage, aren’t you?” 

“But I’m never gonna have leverage,” Mal choked. “At least not with her. This was the perfect chance, and she _still_ has one up on me. And her leverage is _Jay,_ and I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to him tonight. Because now I’m stuck waiting around for her to be ready to maybe give him back to me.” 

“Yeah.” Evie put a soothing hand on her shoulder, rubbing it out. “Yeah, hey, I hear you. I wish we could go back and change it, I do. And I wish you had a better mom.” 

“She’s never gonna apologize to me,” Mal said darkly. “She doesn’t think she did anything wrong. Maybe she didn't do anything wrong. Maybe I’m the fuck up.” 

“You’re not.” The blue-haired girl laid a gentle kiss on her cheek, tasting the salt from her tears. “You’re so not, Mal Bertha.” Despite the horrific information Maleficent had revealed, Mal’s middle name hadn’t gone without her noticing. 

“I hate that middle name.” 

“I figured.” Evie swiped her thumb gently across Mal’s cheek, rubbing away at the tracks. “This is not your fault. And we are going to be okay.” 

As if they were drawn by a magnet, both girls glanced over at the clock. Its soft ticking both soothed Evie and made her anxious at the same time, like it was counting down to something that she didn't quite understand. 

“Ten forty-five,” Mal said, sniffing. “I should head over there. I really don’t want to be late. In case she, know, gets… impatient and it ends with sirens.” 

“Let me come with you,” Evie begged, hating the idea of Mal riding over in the dark by herself. “Please?” 

“I can’t lose any more of you.” The purple-haired girl kissed her quickly, holding her chin. “I can’t. Keep Carlos safe. Stay inside. I’ll be back before you even know it.” 

There was no use in arguing with her, not when her mind was made up and there were still tears on her cheeks. As Mal grabbed the keys, Evie had one last thing to say before she walked out the door. 

“Don’t cry in front of the enemy, okay, M?” 

And the purple-haired girl managed a grim smile. “I’m heading into battle, Princess,” she assured her. “Once I put my armor on, my mother better watch her ass.” 

And Evie prayed, hoped with everything in her heart and soul, that Mal would win this war. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know jay's pov was the longest in this chapter, but he had the bulk of the action :) it's crazy how close we are to the end!


	9. Losses and Long Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay okay i know it's taken me ages to get this chapter up but i've been without wifi for the past couple of days, so i couldn't edit/post this. thanks for sticking with this story anyway! you all are amazing.

**~M~**

 

Mal knew that she could lose. 

She wasn’t stupid; she knew that her mother was capable of taking everything away tonight without a backwards glance over her shoulder. 

And Mal wished that she had another option, a hidden trick, a secret weapon. But tonight, she was all out of tricks, all out of options, and certainly all out of weapons. Now, she had to play the fair game and hope against all logical hope that her mother kept her word. 

Everything had gone so,  _ so  _ wrong. The four of them were supposed to be at home right now, celebrating with pizza and maybe a drink or two. She’d never planned on making this drive, in the dark and in the quiet, to bargain for her best friend. In the back of her mind, she wondered when her life had become a soap opera. 

“Is my life just a joke to you?” Mal didn’t know who she was talking to, necessarily. Maybe the universe. Maybe a deity. Maybe just to anyone who happened to be listening. “I get it. I screwed up big time. But punish me! Not Jay. Oh, fuck, please don’t punish Jay for this.”

She’d promised Evie that she would put on her armor, and after parking the car, Mal did just that. She shoved her earlier tears and outbursts deep down, deep enough to a place where hopefully even her mother couldn’t draw them up to the surface and headed up to the door. 

Her mother. She was walking to see her mother. 

_ No,  _ Mal told herself.  _ Jay. You are going to see Jay. That’s who this is about. Not her. _

Just like Maleficent had promised over the phone, a security member opened the door for Mal when she rapped her knuckles on the glass. Between the empty parking lot and flickering exterior lights, chills began to run down Mal’s spine.

“Right this way, Miss Moors,” the security guard said. 

_ Miss Moors,  _ Mal thought bitterly, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.  _ I’m back to Miss Moors. Just like I haven’t been Mal for all these years. _

As she marched down the hall, Carlos’ computer tucked under her arm, Mal felt like she was heading to her trial. And maybe, on some level, she was. 

“Maleficent.” 

Just that one word was enough to stop her dead in her tracks. A part of Mal - the part she’d sworn to destroy - wanted to be happy to see her mother, wanted to run to her, to tell her she missed her, but that part didn’t control Mal anymore. It  _ couldn’t  _ control her anymore; she wouldn’t let it. That part had been disappointed too many times to take the lead again. 

“Hi, Mom.” She clutched Carlos’ computer tighter.

It was the first time she’d seen in her mother in a long, long time. How strange now to see her standing there at the end of the hallway just like Mal hadn’t been assumed dead for years. 

“Maleficent,” her mother said again, sounding almost emotional. “Do you - it’s been  _ years -”  _ Then, her tone abruptly shifted. “What on earth have you done to your hair?” She walked down the hallway towards her, stopping to examine the purple locks. “Child, are you trying to smear our reputation? Is this the new thing kids are doing? It looks cheap, dear. I’ve told you how much I hate it when people dye their hair unnatural colors. It’s just trashy.” There was her mother, the one she remembered. 

“Well, that’s too bad.” Mal looked at her mother, wondering if she’d always been so short. Maleficent looked a bit older, a bit more worn. “Good convention?” 

“It was until the street rat crashed it,” her mother replied, her focus honing in on the computer. “You brought the computer, I see.” 

_ My street rat,  _ Mal thought posessively.  _ He’s mine, and I will get him back.  _

“I brought your files.” Mal didn’t break away from her mother’s gaze, no matter how much she wanted to. “I held up my end of the deal. Now you hold up yours.” 

“Well,” Maleficent shook her head. “A girl doesn’t see her mother for three years and is ready to make demands the first chance she gets. Didn’t you miss me even a tiny bit, Maleficent?” 

Mal wanted to say no. Mal wanted to laugh and deny it, to be strong like she’d promised Evie, but the words stopped in her throat. But there  _ had  _ been some nights when she’d missed her mother, or at least the idea of her anyway. Maybe it was simply nostalgia, but she did have a few select memories that liked to replay themselves when it got especially dark and quiet. Like the time Mal and her mother had gone Christmas tree cutting in December, and she’d gotten to cut it down all by herself. Or the time when Mal had gotten one hundred percent on her Latin exam, and Maleficent had beamed at her and put the certificate up on the fridge. But Mal always had to remind herself of the  _ bad  _ memories; of the bad times; of the days that got so miserable she’d actually up and left. It was a strange dichotomy, Mal’s memories, and so mostly, she avoided thinking about them at all.  

“You know, I did miss you,” Mal answered truthfully. “I missed the idea of you at times. But guess what? Those times passed. And now, I know what it’s like to have people that love me unconditionally. Not just when I do something that’s good enough for them.” 

“Oh, please,” her mother scoffed. “I’m your mother. It’s in the job description to care for you.” 

“And you barely even looked for me when I left.” 

“That,” Maleficent stepped closer, narrowing her eyes, “couldn’t be farther from the truth. I went looking for you immediately. I spent days searching for you. I notified the police. You were the one who couldn’t handle life. Things got hard, and you quit.” 

“Things got hard because you made them hard!” Mal’s throat ached, but she wouldn’t let herself cry. She’d promised Evie. What kind of leader didn’t take their own advice? 

“I was only doing my job as a parent,” her mother told her frostily. “Being a single mother isn’t easy - hell, being a mother isn’t easy! But I tried to prepare you for the world. So that you could be successful and strong. And now you have no money, no education, no -” 

“I’m doing okay!” Mal didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Her mother had points. Good points. And she desperately didn’t want to believe them. “Mom, you once locked me in my room for three days. You slid food under my door!” 

“You were grounded!” Maleficent laughed. “And I had to lock you in or you got out. You didn’t listen.” 

“Because I knew you were being unreasonable!” The purple-haired girl stared right back at her mother, remembering  _ why _ she’d been grounded, why she’d been shut inside that tiny room until Jay had managed to climb up and bust open her window.  “Mom, you grounded me because I told you I liked girls. You told me I didn’t have time to waste on people who would let me down. And you yelled at me.” 

“You were fourteen.” Her mother waved her off. “No one knows what they want at fourteen. Depending on another person -” 

“Is fine!” Mal finished, hoping the tears in her voice weren’t as obvious as they sounded. “It’s fine. And it’s something I had to learn on my own. Without you. You trust no one. You love no one. And you’re miserable.” 

Maleficent didn’t answer for a moment. Finally, she assumed her usual, irritated expression. “I don’t have time for this, dear,” she said impatiently. “I stand by my earlier statements.” 

“Fine.” Her mother was never going to change. They’d never agree. They were never going to live under the same roof again or coexist peacefully. And maybe that was how things were supposed to be. 

“Delete the files, Maleficent,” her mother sighed, checking her watch. “You’ve wasted enough of my time here tonight. And delete them entirely. No recovering them from the trash. I don’t need you poking around in my business anymore.” 

“Nice try.” There was no way in hell that Mal would ever give up her only semblance of control that easily. “I’m not gonna delete a single thing until you bring Jay to me.” 

Her mother rolled her eyes, but complied, snapping at her security guards until they got the message and disappeared. They returned a few moments later, this time pushing a disheveled looking Jay in front of them. 

“Shit.” Mal felt a pang of relief and something else that felt a lot like contrition course through her blood. Seeing Jay in person was somehow worse than imagining it. His hair had escaped Evie’s neat handwork, and it looked an awful lot like someone had used it to jerk him around. He had a bruise blooming on his forehead, and his hands were still locked behind his back, but other than that, he still looking relatively unscathed physically. She’d seen him in a lot worse shape, that was for sure. No, it was the eyes that haunted her - the empty, defeated look at she hadn’t seen reflecting back at her in so, so long. 

“Dragon.” Jay tried to shake his head. “You shouldn’t have come. You don’t know that she’s gonna hold up her deal.”

“I always hold up my deals,” Maleficent cut in shortly.

“Oh, yeah?” the dark-haired boy snarled, lunging for her as the guards caught hold of his arms and jerked him back. “What about those offshore accounts, huh? All that money? I’m sure your sponsors would love -  _ agh.”  _ He winced as one of the guards gave him a hard shove. 

“Mom, even if you called the cops on him, they’d ask about the bruises.” Mal wished it were true, but even she could see through her own last-ditch effort to guilt her mother into giving in. 

“Dear, dear, dear.” Maleficent sniffed and turned up her nose. “Please, I didn’t give him those bruises. Security did. And it was their job to restrain a criminally affiliated and dangerous young man who clearly has trouble controlling his temper. The cops will lock him up without a second glance. Troubled teen living on the streets -” 

“Stop!” Mal shook her head, unwilling to listen to another one of her mother’s tangents. “Stop, stop, just stop. Let’s finish this. I’m tired of this. Uncuff him.” 

Maleficent smiled sweetly. “And if he runs?” 

“He won’t run.” Mal opened the computer, plugging in Carlos’ password and selecting the whole folder Carlos had told her to. She didn’t want to pull one over on her mother anymore. She just wanted to go home and make sure her family was okay. 

“I’m not uncuffing him yet,” her mother said with firm finality. “Get on with it, Maleficent Bertha, or I might have to stop being so patient.” 

“Fine, fucking fine!” Mal hovered her cursor over the files, deleting them off the desktop. Her heart began to beat faster. “They’re deleted. Uncuff him. Now.”  

Her mother grabbed the laptop and began poking around, as if trying to confirm whether Mal had actually done the job. Mal bit her tongue for several seconds before grabbing it back. 

 Maleficent sighed heavily and stood still for a moment before motioning the security guards to follow the order. The cuffs clinked together as they unlatched, but Maleficent raised a hand to keep the men from letting him take a step forward. “Ah ah.” She turned her focus on Mal. “My security team gets to check and make sure they’re permanently erased.  _ Then _ , he gets to leave.” 

Mal gritted her teeth as the security guards took the laptop now, clicking and muttering to each other.. In the back of her mind, she wondered whether Carlos could somehow restore the files when they got home, but she pushed the thought away. She didn’t want them anymore. They really weren’t worth much at this point. Besides, once the men had finished, and Jay finally broke free and walked with his remaining shreds of dignity to her side, she didn’t care about anything else. 

Mal didn’t dare ask him questions in front of all these people - she knew he wouldn’t tell her anything in front of them  - but she did let herself make eye contact with him for a solid few seconds, just to check in. 

_ I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.  _

She hoped her face conveyed the words bouncing around and around in her head like a fucked up merry-go-round. She found the anger behind his eyes. She also found some pain, well hidden, but there. Mostly she found humiliation. And that was the worst. 

For a few, simple seconds, the world stopped turning. Jay looked at Mal. And Mal looked at Jay. Then, they turned - and with their heads held high - walked right back down the hallway without a second glance backwards. 

They didn’t talk much on the ride home, either. The orange glow of the street lights lit up Jay’s face in the passenger seat next to her as the posts slid past, illuminating the exhaustion in the lines of his face. 

“Sorry, Dragon,” he muttered finally, turning to stare outside. “I really wanted to do that for you.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Mal didn’t think she could handle it if he started beating himself up for her sake. “Don’t. If you apologize, then I have to apologize for sending you in there, and I’ve already cried enough tonight to last me forever.” 

And as always, he understood. He didn’t need to ask anymore questions. He just… got it. “Alright.” 

“I love you.” Mal needed to say it. After everything they’d gone through, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d told him that, and it sucked. Because she did love him. And if nothing else, her poor loveless mother proved that tonight. 

And next to her, Jay smiled some. Maybe it wasn’t his usual smug grin, but it still counted as a win in Mal’s book. “Love you too, Dragon Girl.” 

The quiet in the car had gone from heavy to just peaceful. There was no other word for it. Jay had gotten out okay, Evie was probably waiting for them with mugs of tea, and Carlos -

“Oh, shit. Carlos.” As she parked the car, Mal nearly bent the key. “Jay, uh, it’s Carlos. Something sorta happened.” 

At the sound of his boyfriend’s name, Jay went rigid. “What happened? What’s wrong?” 

She had to tell him, even if it meant watching those eyes get a little dimmer and those shoulders that protected them both so well slump a little more. “He overheard my mom’s fuckheaded comment. About your dad.” 

The taller boy got even stiffer, his breath coming in short gasps. He stared up at the car roof for a moment, his leg beginning to bounce. “Mal…” 

“I know.” Mal hated the look on his face. He looked about ten years old again, terrified and helpless. “Jay, you can stay here. I’ll leave the keys. He and Evie will understand.” 

But to her surprise, he managed to shake his head. “No. I - I gotta talk to him. I should’ve told him, Mal.  This isn’t how I wanted him to find out. Shit - what does he think? He’s disgusted, isn’t he? Is he angry?” 

“Fuck, Jay,” Mal swore. “You could never ever be disgusting. Except maybe when you leave the damn toilet seat up. But your dad? He didn’t ruin you. He doesn’t have that much power. Carlos is just worried about you.”  

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to console Jay. She couldn’t quite tell whether he was still struggling to repress the memories or dealing Carlos suddenly knowing a whole lot more about him.

Mal was getting really tired of begging the universe to make things okay. Instead, she turned to Jay and folded her arms.  

“Don’t push yourself. If you wanna talk, talk - if not, fine, too. Let him worry about you. Take care of yourselves.” 

If all went well, if the boys talked, if miraculously all four of them ended up still mostly alright after this disaster of a day, then fate really could go fuck itself. 

* * *

 

**~J~**

 

As he climbed the stairs to their floor, the metal clanging and echoing with every step, Jay wished his brain didn’t feel so sluggish. His neck and back ached from sitting rigidly against the wall in the press room for hours on end, and his whole body just felt… wrung out. Like he’d just lost a fight. 

But he couldn’t lie down yet. This wasn’t over. Now, Jay had to go talk about the one thing he never wanted anyone to bring up ever again.

_ Why tonight? Why not tomorrow? I might be able to do this tomorrow. Or the next day. Or never.  _

Jay stepped out onto their floor, and already, he could see Carlos standing outside, leaning on the rail. The night air froze him to the very bone, but judging from the freckled boy’s position, he’d been there for awhile. Carlos must’ve heard him approaching because the boy exhaled deeply, sending a cloud of white breath spiraling into the dark sky. He glanced over, and Jay couldn’t miss the way his eyes were wide and wild. 

“You’re back!” Carlos’ shoulders sagged with what Jay hoped was relief. “Fuck, you made it back.” He made a move to hug Jay, but then faltered, as if wondering whether just that little bit of touch would make him uncomfortable. Jay felt himself flush; he knew exactly what was going on inside Carlos’ head, what he was thinking. He could feel the new uncertainty radiating off his boyfriend, and for the millionth time, he wished he’d had a different father or a different life. 

But he didn’t. He had this life. And that shitty father. So, he straightened his shoulders, played it cool, and pretended not to notice Carlos’ new hesitation. 

“Yeah, it worked out okay.” Jay joined him at the rail, ignoring the way the icy metal sent chills all the way up his arms. A horn honked in the distance, and a siren began to wail a few streets over. 

“I - I - Maflecient… we found out about your dad.” The admission hung heavy in the air. 

“I heard.” Jay wished he had a better answer - anything that might justify the whole situation, but his brain felt empty. He hadn’t told Carlos about his father because he hadn’t wanted to. That was it, plain and simple. He’d wanted to be Jay. Not Jay with the Fucked-Up Dad. Not Jay the Broken or Jay the Weak or Jay Who Needed Pity. But that didn’t really matter now; his cover had been blown in more than one ways tonight. 

Carlos gazed out at the lights in the distance for a long while. Occasionally, he would open his mouth like he wanted to say something, but it would fall shut a moment later.  

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” Jay said quietly, trying to fill the silence. And at least that felt like the truth. He hadn’t wanted Carlos to find out from Maleficent, of all people. But had he wanted Carlos to find out at all? Had he wanted to shove it down and hide it forever? Erase it from existence? Probably. 

“We don’t have to talk about it.” Carlos shook his head some. “You’ve had a long night.”  

The thought definitely tempted Jay. He could go inside, fall asleep, and escape for awhile. But the longer he thought about it, the heavier his legs seemed until going into the apartment seemed like more energy than it was worth.

_ This isn’t how I wanted this to go,  _ he wanted to scream.  _ It wasn’t about you; it was about me! I just wanted to forget. And I realize that I went against all my own stupid advice. And that was shitty. And I’m sorry.  _

Jay hated feeling vulnerable. Every fiber in his body wanted him to  _ fight, to hit someone, to curl his fists and smack these problems away.  _ But he couldn’t. And he hated it. 

“You’ve stopped breathing on me.” Carlos’ voice pulled him out of his brain. “You know I don’t think about you any differently, right? This isn’t your fault. You don’t have to blame yourself for what your dad did. What your dad was.” 

“I don’t - I don’t know. I guess… I should’ve been better. I should’ve done something different.” Jay muttered finally, the honesty rubbing his throat raw. He figured the other boy would walk away, but Carlos just shook his head.

“No. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Carlos somehow looked even more wretched than before. “Jay, God, you were the last person on Earth who deserved this. No one deserves this! But - especially not you. Fuck, Jay. I want to say so much, but… I don’t know  _ what _ . I can’t make it better. I can’t do anything to help you. I just… fuck.” 

Jay stayed silent, listening. He could hear his heart beat in time with the whoosh of passing cars, and for a few moments, focusing on the fact let his lungs reinflate. He didn’t quite know how to respond to that. Better to just stay quiet. Stare out at the night. Hold his tongue. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Carlos shook his head, like he’d read his mind. “I just… want to help. And I don’t know how. I guess I don’t know what I’m feeling.” 

That, at least, Jay could sympathize with. He nodded a bit, pulling his jacket closer with his numb fingers. He didn’t know what he felt inside either. Most days, Jay tried  _ not  _ to think about what he felt. Life was easier that way. 

Time didn’t seem to exist right then. The two boys stood, their legs numb, just far enough apart along the railing that their arms didn’t touch. Cars came and went, sirens howled and faded, and off and on, a dog would begin to bark and trigger a chorus of distant baying. Jay picked at his nails, glancing up every so often at the moon, which had always fascinated him to some degree. He squinted a bit, trying to see it as a shaded ball instead of a two dimensional crescent. As a boy, when his father would kick him out of the house for the night, Jay would study the same moon, trying to force his brain to do the same thing. Now it was just a habit, he supposed.  After a moment, he figured he could at least share that bit with Carlos. 

“I got kicked out a lot.” His voice sounded hoarse, and Jay wondered vaguely how long they’d been standing there not talking. 

“Yeah?” Carlos turned slightly, coming to life a little. 

“Cops caught on after they found me sleeping on benches and shit.” Jay recalled quietly. “Said if it happened again he’d lose custody. So I started sneaking into Mal’s room at night and camping out there.” 

There. That hadn’t been so bad. Of course, it wasn’t exactly the part he dreaded saying aloud, but it was what Jay could handle at the moment, so he rolled with it. The freckled boy only nodded, shifting from one foot to the other again. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to. Carlos clearly wasn’t expecting anything from him. 

 Jay could feel the other boy’s eyes trained on him - not steady staring, exactly, but quick, flickering glances. “I meant what I said before. You don’t have to tell me everything, Jay. Or anything. I get it. I do. And Mal’s right. I can’t really do anything about what happened. I can’t save you or - or fix you. I guess… all I can do is stand here. Be here. In case it helps.” 

Jay sighed heavily, rubbing his face. “It does. I think. I just - don’t like talking about what happened.” 

Carlos nodded.  “Yeah.” He rubbed at his arms, probably trying to warm them up. His sweater couldn’t possibly be thick enough to protect him from this kind of cold. “God… I’m so sorry.” 

“For what?” Jay rubbed his forehead. “For my dad fucking around with me? For him being a piece of shit? What are you sorry for, Carlos?” The words came out harsh, and Jay immediately sucked in his breath, watching the freckled boy’s color drain still further while his knuckles went white on the rail. “I’m sorry, dude,” Jay exhaled quietly. “I didn’t mean to snap. I just -” 

“- don’t like talking about it,” his boyfriend finished softly. “I’m sorry. I was pressing too hard. We can forget about it now, alright? I never should’ve brought it up.” 

God, Jay wanted to agree. He wanted to nod and tell him that he should forget about it, to never bring up his dad or what happened ever again. But the words just wouldn’t come. “I - uh - don’t think that would be very healthy. I probably need to talk about it. I probably - no, I  _ definitely  _ need therapy or some other shit but I can’t afford that. Just… stick with it, alright? ‘Los, you’re one of the only people that could bring him up and come away only a little scathed, so… thanks, I guess. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” 

“You’re giving me too much credit.” Carlos looked over at him. “I can’t change anything that happened. I already said that.” 

The words didn’t sit right with Jay, but it took him another few minutes to piece together why. “Okay, maybe it isn’t going to be the whole hurt and comfort scene that you played out in your head.” He spun his ring around again, digging it into his skin and examining the mark. “You know, the kind where I cry, and you tell me that it wasn’t my fault and then we make out for awhile. And maybe the change isn’t the dramatic type everyone notices. But… I don’t know, Carlos, I’m not willing to agree that we didn't change each other on some level. You do… make my life better, for whatever it’s worth. This isn’t all or nothing, black or white. Even if you do refuse to expand your wardrobe to any other colors.” 

That got the faintest ghost of a smile out of Carlos - a mere twitching at the corner of his mouth -  but it still felt like a victory. “I guess that sounds right.” 

Jay attempted to move closer, but in his jerky, mostly-frozen movements, his knee collided with the rail. The subsequent clang - and jolt of pain - made the two boys a little more alert than before. “ _ Damn,”  _ Jay swore, the hit vibrating up his leg. Well good, now his knee would have a purple bruise to match the ones on his wrists from struggling against the cuffs. 

“That sounded painful.” 

“Not too bad.” 

Carlos shook his head. “I’m sorry your dad’s a shitty person who does shitty things.” 

Jay figured he didn’t have to respond to that, but he did anyway. “Me too, I guess.” 

“It’s kinda cold.” Carlos blew on his hands, which had to be just as cold as Jay’s were. The air was getting icier by the minute. “You wanna go inside?” 

“Yeah.” Jay watched the other boy turn slowly towards the door. Some part of him wished he had something else to say, something more to tell him. “Hey, Carlos?”

The freckled boy paused, looking back at him. “What?” 

Jay took a deep breath. “My name - my full name - is Jayesh. Jayesh Aljaniu.” 

Carlos’ mouth moved ever so slightly, like he was repeating the name silently to himself. His tongue poked out and wet his lips some again. “Jayesh?” It didn’t sound as terrible as Jay thought it would coming out of his mouth. He hadn’t heard that name said out loud in years - not since he and Mal both agreed to bury their old selves alive. 

“Yeah - that’s - that’s my name. Or it was my name. I dunno.” Jay kind of wished he hadn’t said anything as the blood started rising back to his ears. 

“Jayesh.” Carlos looked thoughtful, his lips parted slightly as his breath swirled into the air and blended with the night. “It’s a nice name. I like Jayesh.”  

“You didn’t really know Jayesh.” Jay shrugged. “He was different. Angrier. Hurt.” 

Carlos sighed deeply, his shoulders rising and falling slowly. “I do know Jayesh. I see him right now. He’s not a different person. You’re both. Jayesh, Jay, I don’t care what you call yourself. You’ve changed, sure. But dammit, Jay, you can’t run from that part of yourself.”

Jay opened his mouth, but found he didn’t quite know how to respond to that. Of all the things Carlos could’ve said, that might’ve been the worst. He didn't want to be his old self. He didn’t want to be associated with that person. He’d spent his whole life running from that life, that world. 

“Hey.” Carlos seemed to notice the effect his words had on him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have -” 

“Stop apologizing,” the taller boy groaned softly. “It’s just -  I don’t want to be that guy. That guy had a shitty life and a shitty father and a shitty way of justifying things. I let it go on for too long. For awhile I even -” he broke off, the words catching in his throat. 

“You what?” Carlos took a step closer, his head tilted just slightly. 

“I even thought he might be doing it on accident or something,” Jay mumbled, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. “I dunno, maybe he was drunk. Maybe he didn’t know better. Maybe… it was normal.” 

“No matter how many times people tell you it’s not your fault,” Carlos’ said softly. “It doesn’t change things. I know that. Maybe that’s why I didn’t want to go to the authorities about my mom, either. She’s still… my mom, you know?”

And Jay knew. 

“You wanna go back inside now?” Carlos wasn’t exactly touching him, but he’d moved even closer, like he was just waiting for an okay to reach out and grab his hand. 

“Are we okay?” Jay moved his hands away for a moment, blinking quickly. “I mean - after everything?” 

And Carlos nodded without a trace of hesitation. Exhaustion, maybe. And a shiver or two thrown in, but no hesitation. “Yeah. We are…  I love you.” 

And Jay’s chest got tighter and heavier and the freckled face in front of him blurred. “I - I love you, too, Carlos.” 

* * *

 

**~C~**

 

Carlos didn’t really expect the girls to be asleep inside, not when everyone’s leftover adrenaline was still so high. Sure enough, they were both still up, sitting huddled together on one of the beds under a blanket.

“What happened?” Evie asked as he and Jay filed inside. “Are you guys okay? Are we okay?”

“It’s good.” Carlos sat down next to the girls and watched Jay lock the door. He’d meant what he’d said outside. “Really.”  

“You’re freezing.” Evie grabbed another blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. “Carlos, your lips are blue.” 

He took the blanket without complaining and even accepted the mug of tea she pressed into his hands a few moments later.  Sipping it slowly, Carlos glanced over at Mal, who was still watching Jay like a hawk. 

“Jay?” she finally asked, her voice low and quiet. “You okay?”

He gave her a small, reassuring smile. “I’m getting there, Dragon.” 

A thought occurred to Carlos as he studied his boyfriend’s bruised and creased face. This was quite possibly the first time he’d seen him be truly vulnerable. His eyes were still slightly rimmed with red, dark circles blotted his usually grinning face, but he’d never looked more real to Carlos than in that moment. 

“Come sit.” Carlos didn’t know if Jay would listen, but he thought he’d invite him over anyway. To his surprise, Jay made his way over to the bed and sat down heavily on the end. 

“Is this our version of a slumber party?” Evie asked with a little smile, moving over to make more space for the four of them. 

“More like a ‘anything-but-slumber’ party,” Mal grunted. “I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t feel like sleeping.”

Carlos flicked his eyes back over at Jay, wondering if it was okay to touch him. He didn’t feel like kissing or anything, but the taller boy looked like he could at least use a hug. 

_ Or maybe _ , Carlos thought,  _ you should just leave him alone for a bit.  _

“You can.” 

Jay’s voice broke through Carlos’ thoughts, bringing him back to the bed. 

“What?”

“You can touch me.” It was like Jay had read his mind. The taller boy shifted to angle his body towards Carlos. “You don’t have to walk on eggshells. It happened a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t mean it hurts any less.” 

The other boy tensed ever so slightly. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. And I don’t like talking about him. Or thinking about him. But it happened. We talked about it. It’s okay. Also, girls you can stop pretending to not listen.” 

Mal and Evie glanced over at them, looking slightly guilty. Evie put down her phone slowly and bit her lip. “We didn’t know if you wanted us to turn a blind eye - or ear, I guess.” 

Jay shook his head. “It’s not like I’m hiding anything, Princess. It’s just not easy to talk about.” 

Coming back to life, Mal seemed to be a little relieved to hear him talking again. She, at least, didn’t seem shy about inspecting him as she moved closer. She also changed the subject, for which Jay looked rather grateful. “You don’t look awful,” she told him. “A little bruised, but we can take care of that. I think my mother wasn’t ready to completely destroy you tonight. She could’ve done a lot worse.” 

“I guess. She certainly seemed to enjoy fucking with me, though. Had this sadistic smile on her face the whole time.” 

Carlos couldn’t help admiring the fearless way Mal ran her hands over Jay, even when he looked pretty unsteady. He supposed his mother had pretty much pounded the instinct into his brain to stay away from those who might lash out, from those who looked a little on edge and capable of striking. Still, this was Jay, not Cruella. He could trust him - he  _ did  _ trust him. 

Edging a little closer, he watched Mal examine Jay’s wrists, which were bruised pretty badly. “I didn’t see those outside,” Carlos said with a frown. “Did she cuff you? Is she even allowed to do that?” 

“I don’t know.” Jay shrugged a little, meeting his gaze. “Seeing as I did something I definitely wasn’t allowed to do, I’m not sure that it matters. It was all under the table anyway. She knew I couldn’t necessarily report her without fucking myself over, so…”  

Mal drew her lips into a straight line and got up to retrieve the first aid kit, rubbing gel on the worst of Jay’s bruises. She also grabbed Carlos’ laptop from the kitchen table, handing it back to him. 

“Thanks for letting me borrow this tonight,” Mal said. “I know how special it is to you.” 

Holding it gently in his lap, Carlos ran his hands across the lid possessively. “I can get those files back, you know. They might still be recoverable. If I -” 

“No.” Mal shook her head, and there was a resounding finality to her words. “I don’t want them. You were right, Puppy Boy. I didn’t want them for anything other than ego. Something that Mom effectively deflated.” 

So he’d been right. Carlos hadn’t really expected to be wrong, but as he stared into Mal’s disappointed eyes, he kinda wished he had been. “You’re not useless.” He wanted her to know that, at least. 

A small smile formed on her lips as she sat back down. “I know. I guess it could’ve been worse. Jay could’ve had to deal with cops instead of my mom’s body guards.” 

“I’m really glad I didn’t.”

 Carlos glanced over at Jay again. “Why don’t you like them?” He figured while they were all having a heart-to-heart, he might as well ask the question that had been in the back of his mind practically since he’d met him. “I mean, one of the first things you told me was that cops lie, right? And then you hid from them that day in the library.”  

“Cops do lie.” Jay rubbed his arm some, turning to look at Mal for half a second. “When she and I first left home, we thought we were invincible. Every cop I ever met promised to help me and five minutes later I’d hear them talking about homes and missing kid reports and shit like that.” 

Carlos nodded, satisfied until he caught side of Mal’s raised eyebrow. Some sort of unspoken communication passed between Jay and Mal before she cleared her throat.

When she spoke, her words were slow, like they’d been chosen very carefully. “That’s not all. Jay’s father… was on the police force - like deputy chief or something - until they dismissed him for disorderly conduct or some other bad shit. And then, to make ends meet, he opened a pawn shop and spent all day drinking and obsessing over the junk on his shelves.”

“Leaving the police force ruined him,” Jay said quietly. “He started drinking again. He stopped taking care of himself. That’s when - the other stuff started. I was ten, I think.” 

Carlos listened, his heart sinking. “Jay… that wasn’t what made your father a bad person. He was already a bad guy. People don’t just… start being… you know.” 

Jay didn’t answer for a few moments. He just sat and stared off at nothing, his face dark and drawn. “He wasn’t always -”

“Yes. He was.” Reaching out gingerly, Carlos finally gathered enough courage to lay his hand on Jay’s. “I’m sorry.” Much to Carlos’ relief, Jay didn’t pull away. He stiffened some, still staring into space, but he let his hand be held all the same. Carlos wished he could say something to fix the hurt, to take it away. “We’re so sorry.” 

Evie, who had been silent up until that moment, nodded too. “He’s right, you know.” 

“Fuck.” Mal shrugged a little. “Believe me, if I could murder him I would.” 

“Maybe we should plan that as our next big crime scheme,” Carlos joked gently. “Although after tonight, I’m guessing it wouldn’t end too well.” 

“Yeah.” Mal chewed on her lip, and for the first time, Carlos realized she probably felt guilty for setting all this up. “Maybe we should cut back on the schemes. We’ve got enough in Goldilocks to last us a little bit. At least until rent is due next month.”  

They lapsed back into silence. For a long while, the only sound in the room was their breathing. 

“Can I ask a question now?” Evie asked a while later, brushing back her hair. “Why do you call your safe Goldilocks?”

“Our safe,” Mal corrected, and Carlos felt something warm flicker in his chest. “It’s our safe. And Jay and I named it Goldilocks because, back when we got it, we liked code names for everything. Made us feel cool.” She shook her head, and even Jay looked a little wistful underneath his heavy expression. “Anyway, we hated all the fairytales they used to read in class to us when we were kids. Except the Goldilocks one. She broke into homes and took shit and got away with it.”

“You guys were inspired to be thieves by a children’s nursery rhyme?” Carlos almost laughed. “Christ, that wasn’t the intended purpose of that story.” 

“Probably not.” The purple-haired girl managed to return a small smile. “But it worked for us, I guess. At least up until tonight.” 

Carlos roamed his eyes over every single one of their faces, studying them, memorizing them. It hadn’t been their best night, but it could’ve been worse. At least they hadn’t ended up in jail. He figured that had to count for something. And as he watched them, Carlos smiled to himself. 

_ I think I really do love them. _

* * *

 

**~E~**

 

For once in her life, Evie was beyond grateful to be away from a party. It was the kind of thing her mother would’ve cried over, but tonight, Evie wasn’t going to let that bother her. She enjoyed sitting here with Carlos, Mal, and Jay much more than hanging out with wealthy philanthropists. 

Once it became clear that none of them felt like sleeping, the four of them rearranged the blankets and pillows so that they could sit closer together. Mal even got out her art supplies and sat at the end of the bed, working carefully as the minutes drifted by. Evie watched in silent fascination; she never got tired of watching her girlfriend draw.

“Can you show us what you’re drawing yet, M?” Evie couldn’t help it. She wanted so badly to see what was sketched on that page. 

“When it’s finished.” 

At least it wasn’t a no. 

Jay and Carlos were still holding hands, something Evie was grateful to see. Jay still looked rather down, but at least he wasn’t isolating himself like before. She even thought she saw him smile some when Carlos leaned over to whisper something, his lips quirking up in a weary, but present way. It felt oddly familiar and comforting to see them sitting so close, talking in hushed voices, letting themselves pass the time in each other’s arms. She was glad they weren't out in the hall anymore; it felt better to be all together. 

Awhile later, her thoughts drifted back to Mal. She’d gotten to see Mal without her armor on earlier that evening, and Evie couldn’t get that soft, quiet girl out of her mind. 

“M?”

“Hmm?” Mal’s eyes stayed on her artwork, but Evie knew she was listening all the same. 

“Your full name is Maleficent Moors.” 

Now Mal glanced up. “Yeah, and what about it?”

“Nothing.” Evie gave her a smile. “I just like it, that’s all. It suits you. Dark. Brooding. Sexy.” 

Mal’s nose crinkled a little. “I like to think I’m all those things.” 

“You are.” Evie remembered their kiss from earlier. It felt lifetimes away, back in a world where the sun was up and where they hadn’t nearly imploded. For half a second, she wondered whether it would ever get light outside ever again. Maybe it would just stay dark; maybe the sun just wouldn’t ever come back up. 

“Hey.” Mal touched her arm gently, bringing her back. “Don’t.” 

“Don’t what?” Evie’s voice had dropped to nearly a whisper for reasons she didn’t quite know herself. 

“Look like the world is ending.” Mal gave her another small smile. “It’s not. I promise. The boys are okay. You’re okay. It’s gonna be better.” 

“Are… are you okay?”

Mal leaned forward, planting a firm kiss on Evie’s lips. It sent chills all the way down the blue-haired girl’s spine while a warm blush heated her cheeks. 

“Yes. I am,” Mal answered at last.  “I am okay.” 

And that was all Evie really needed to hear. 

 


	10. Clashes and Cruelty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is! the second to last chapter! sorry this took so long to get up! enjoy!

**~M~**

 

Mal was going to kill Jay. 

Her hands were numb, her feet frozen in place as a cold feeling spread down to her very bones. 

“If you shove snow down my back one more time,” she hissed, squinting at him as he fell over laughing with Carlos. “I will absolutely positively fucking break your neck, and you’ll never make it home!” 

“Babe, chill.” Evie gave her a little smile, holding out her hand. “I’ll warm up your fingers if you want.” 

“You just want to keep me from strangling him.” Mal could see right through her flirtatious little smile. 

“Maybe,” her girlfriend conceded. “But I still wanna hold your hand.” 

Maybe if Evie wasn't the cutest thing with her pink nose and rosy cheeks out here in the buttass cold, Mal would've said no. But a moment later, her fingers were comfortable twisted around Evie’s, savoring the shared body heat between them as they walked back to their apartment. 

“I just want the record to reflect,” Carlos laughed from up ahead, “that I am definitely the best ice skater out of all of us.” 

They’d spent the morning in the park, deciding - against their better judgement - to spend a little extra money as sort of a holiday present to them all. Carlos and Evie had definitely been the more skilled of the four, with Mal stumbling into Evie and refusing to let go of her arm half the time while Jay abandoning all caution and barreling into anyone who dared to skate in his general path. 

“Hey!” Evie laughed, shaking her head. “Carlos, you can’t group me with Mal and Jay! They almost got us kicked off the ice! I was very good!” 

“Fine.” Carlos threw her a grin. “You were good, too.” 

“What about me?” Ahead of them, Jay was grinning like an idiot at his boyfriend.

“You sucked.” 

That comment earned Carlos a ball of ice down his shirt that Jay had been shaping in his hand for the past block or two. Mal had a feeling it was probably intended for her originally. 

“Dumbasses,” Evie laughed, watching Carlos shriek and writhe around. 

“Definitely.” 

It felt strange, Mal decided, to have this level of domesticity involved in their lives. Several weeks ago, she and Jay had worked their first shift at the coffee shop down the street, and had been working there almost every day ever since. Evie and Carlos were both set to start their college credits at the community college just a few miles away, and although her girlfriend didn’t know she’d been watching, Mal had also seen Evie creating a website for her designs and fashion label. Things were - oddly - normal. They still used the money in their safe - they weren't  _ completely  _ committed to turning over a new leaf - but for the most part, Mal was enjoying the way things had settled down. 

“You’re quiet,” Evie observed with a little nudge. “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” And Mal meant it. She smiled some, swinging their hands between them as they walked. “I hate to say that I like being all… domestic….” 

“But you like it?” Evie’s smile grew. 

“Yeah, Princess,” Mal laughed. “Yeah, I think I do.” 

The boys slowed down their steps. Carlos had shaken all the ice from his shirt, but from the way he was looking at Jay, Mal figured retaliation was in the latter’s near future. 

“You gotta go back home tonight, ‘Los?” Jay asked, looking hopeful against his better judgement. Evie had moved in full time, but Carlos still returned to Hell Hall nearly every day and even spent several nights a week there in the hopes of keeping his mother satisfied. 

“Yeah.” Carlos shook his head some. 

Mal sighed, shaking her head. She hated the arrangement just as much as Jay did.  After all, Carlos was the best at making pancakes, and it was no fun waking up without the smell of his breakfast to get them out of bed. She thought for a moment, and then, “Hey, freckles,” she called. “How much longer do we have to put up with this batshit woman? Can’t we get you emancipated? When do you turn eighteen?” 

To her surprise, Carlos blushed, turning to kick a rock as they strolled onward and mumbling something inaudible. 

“What’s that?” 

He cleared his throat. “January first.” 

“ _ What _ ?” Jay stopped walking altogether, gawking at his boyfriend who wouldn't meet his eyes. “January first like  _ two-days-from-now-january-first?”  _

“Possibly.” 

Mal raised an eyebrow. “Dude, why the fuck didn't you tell us? That’s kinda huge.” 

“You said we didn't make a big deal about birthdays,” Carlos reminded her, crossing his arms defensively. “And I’ve never done much in the past, so why start now?”

“Because now -” Evie broke away from Mal to throw an arm around Carlos, “- you have a family. And we’re gonna start celebrating around here.”

Mal couldn’t help groaning a little. Celebrating sounded like too much energy; being cheerful and peppy always took a lot out of her. “E, I agreed to work. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna start singing happy fucking birthday every couple of months.” 

“We won’t make you sing,” her girlfriend laughed, reaching up to adjust her fashionable, self-created earmuffs. “But I think it’s nice to acknowledge milestones. We can do it in our own way.” 

Glancing up at Carlos, who was scowling at the ground some, helped Mal come around. If he didn’t want to celebrate his own birthday, they’d have to do it for him. “Fine. We’re celebrating your birthday, Carlos, whether you like it or not.” 

“Well, fuck.” 

“Now move your ass,” she huffed, trying to push them all forward. “It’s freezing out here, and we’re not gonna get home any faster if we keep stopping every five seconds!” 

The four of them started their walk again, stepping over ice patches and piles of cleared snow as they went. A bitter wind had kicked up, taking away some of the fun of being outside in the snow. Mal’s ears and nose were burning by the time they all made it back to the apartment. 

“I told you to bring a hat,” Evie reminded her as she dug around her purse for the key. “Your ears are bright red.” 

“I’m fine.” Never in a million years would Mal admit that Evie had been right about that. 

“Hey, Jay?” Carlos looked up at his boyfriend, batting his eyelashes. His hands were clasped behind his back. “I know it’s my birthday, but I have a present for you.” 

It took Jay a couple seconds to realize just what Carlos had hidden, and Mal couldn’t help laughing as he scrambled back. “No! Put the snow down! Hey, dE VIL!” His protests ended with a shout as Carlos shoved a heaping handful of snow down his shirt. 

  Retallaton, indeed. 

* * *

 

**~J~**

 

Jay hated watching Carlos get ready to leave. It wasn’t just that he missed his boyfriend when he was gone; he knew exactly what kind of hell Carlos would be returning to, exactly what type of a mother and what kind of a greeting would be thrown at him when he stepped through those doors. And the worst part? Jay was powerless. He couldn’t do a damn thing about it. 

“‘Los…” Jay sat on the edge of the bed, watching him pack the few things he’d brought over. “Can’t you stay a little longer?” 

“Jay.” Carlos looked at him, shaking his head. “It’s only tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow morning, I swear.” 

“Man, I can’t wait for you to turn fucking eighteen.” Jay fell back on the bed, throwing a pillow at him testily. “That women doesn’t deserve you.” 

“That woman - ” Carlos replied, walking over and putting the pillow back on the bed, “- is a bitch and a terror and a nightmare. Remember what I told you in the library parking lot a few months ago?” 

Jay propped himself up on his elbows, scrunching his face in concentration. “You told me a lot of things.” 

Carlos sighed, folding another shirt. “My leverage, Jay. About my mother? And what she’d do if I ever left?” 

“Well, yeah.” Jay tried to remember his exact wording. “You said that she’d -” And then he softened. “You said she’d hunt you down, right? Follow you?” 

“She’ll kill me.” Carlos slid the shirt into his bag. “I told you she would kill me. She would sniff me out, and I don’t want to live the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. I can handle her. She won’t be alive forever, and once she’s in the ground, I’ll be able to breathe again.” 

At that, Jay sat up completely, trying to wrap his head around the implications of his boyfriend’s words. “Wait, what? Dude, what does that mean? You’re just not gonna leave? We can protect you; you’re one of us now. She can’t hurt you. Carlos, look at me!”  

But Carlos wouldn’t make eye contact with him, staring instead at his small pile of folded laundry he had stacked to take back to Hell Hall. His fingers were curling open and closed slowly. Watching him, Jay realized something.

“Carlos de Vil.” He folded his arms. “You didn’t tell us about your birthday because you’re gonna keep going back to Hell Hall, aren’t you? Eighteen or not?” His voice must’ve been louder than he intended because Mal and Evie, who had been conversing in the kitchen, looked up. 

“Carlos?” Mal sounded almost alarmed. “What’s he talking about? Why the fuck would you spend one more second in that house of horrors than you have to?” 

The freckled boy stopped pretending to be frozen. He knelt down and quickly began piling his clothes into his small bag. He didn’t say a word until every last piece had been neatly placed inside. Jay could tell by the way he messed with each shirt, trying to align it just so, that his anxiety had bubbled up to the surface again. They needed to stop pressing him. 

“Guys -” he started to say, but was quickly cut off by Carlos. 

“Just stop!” His boyfriend’s hands were shaking now. “All of you, shut up! You don’t get it!”

“Yes, we do!” Jay knew he needed to lower his voice, but he couldn’t find the control to do so. “‘Los, we can protect you, I swear. I know it’s scary, believe me. But you have to get out! Make yourself get out, and we’ll help you! Carlos, my biggest regret is staying with my father for so fucking long!” 

“Yeah, well, I’m not you.” 

The words stung, and Jay felt his chest getting tight with that familiar angry clench. “I know that, but I can’t let you go back there! I can’t!” 

Carlos straightened up, meeting Jay’s eyes with a hard and sudden glare. “You don’t control me. What? You think I’m your little puppy who’s just gonna follow you around all day long? Who’s ready to submit to your bigger, better knowledge whenever you see fit to bestow it upon me?” 

“No -” 

“I don’t need you to fucking save me, Jay! I can handle myself!” He stalked across the room, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “Just - leave me alone.” The apartment door slammed shut behind him. 

“ _ Fuck!”  _ Jay couldn’t help shouting a little. He felt like punching something and he curled his fists instinctively. Everything had escalated in a matter of seconds. “Why does he have to be so fucking stubborn?  _ Why won’t he just fucking understand?  _ I’m trying to help!” 

“Stop shouting and listen to me.” Mal folded her arms, eyeing the door like it might open again. It wouldn’t, Jay knew. Carlos’ stubborn streak would never let it. “You need to calm the fuck down.” 

“This is -”  _ not the way I wanted it to go.  _ Jay knew Carlos had always resisted any attempts to pull him away from Hell Hall, even from the very first week that Jay had known him. He always had an excuse, a reason. He had chores; his mother would find him; he couldn’t disobey her; he just needed to check in. “He didn't tell us,” Jay said at last. “He didn’t tell us he’s almost eighteen because he didn’t plan on ever leaving her. He told me that she used to whisper threats while he slept! She’s got complete control over him!”

“Believe me,” Evie’s voice was like iron. “If anyone knows that, it’s me! I’ve seen it happen - many, many times. I’ve seen the look in his eyes. And if I knew how to get him out, I would’ve done it years ago. But he won’t let me call anyone or - or  _ do  _ anything. He’d never forgive me, and I can’t lose him.” 

“Evie,  _ she hurts him.”  _ Jay had seen the bruises. He’d seen Carlos run his fingers over the scars late at night in the darkness. During particularly intimate moments, Carlos had even let him touch them gently, kissing each of them to temporarily ease the sting of past hands and cigarette butts and bottles. Every second that Carlos spent inside that dim, dank mansion was another opportunity for that crazy women to work him to the bone and then skin him for his efforts. He couldn’t stay there. He just couldn’t. 

“I know that!” Evie shot back, glaring. Then, her voice softened, and she came over to lay a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t make someone leave, Jay. As much as you love him… you can’t make him leave.” 

Jay growled in frustration. Carlos hadn’t taken the keys, so he was walking home on foot. He could probably catch him no problem. But what would he say? Carlos had already told him to leave him alone; he’d be directly disobeying his wishes. But maybe it was worth it; it  _ had  _ to be worth it. 

“Well,” Mal cleared her throat. “I guess we’re on our own for dinner.”

“What happens if he just never leaves?” Jay wasn’t quite ready to move onto another topic so quickly, even though both girls seemed ready to drop the conversation. They’d been doing this back and forth thing for a few months now, hanging out during the day and dropping him back off at night only to swing by and get in him the morning. Jay had told himself that it was only temporary. That someday Carlos would move in with all of them for good. But every time he let Carlos return to Hell Hall, he was letting Cruella win; he was letting his own boyfriend walk back into a nightmare. “He says she’ll kill him if he leaves, but she’ll kill him if he stays, too! Look at him! Evie, you said you’ve seen it happen. Mal, you’ve seen the bruises and the scars! We’ve stitched him up so many times! This - this can’t keep happening!” 

Mal and Evie looked at him, frowns tugging at the corners of their mouths. They were lucky, he knew. They got to spend their nights in the same bed, tangled together. And Jay - lying awake in the middle of the night - had definitely heard them getting pretty damn  _ close,  _ no matter how hard they tried to stay quiet. He missed Carlos in the bed beside him, where they could laugh at the soft gasps coming from the girls as they made out. And worse, he knew Carlos was curled up on that grey mattress, surrounded by those traps in that dank, dusty closet. Suddenly, Jay didn’t care about what Carlos had said; he didn’t care if Carlos hated him for the rest of his life. Jay would hate  _ himself  _ if he just sat back and continue to let it happen, especially now that he knew Carlos had no intention of leaving on his own. 

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Mal interrupted his thoughts, her voice hard. “Count to five and think it through. Don’t be rash. We agreed not to be rash anymore. Jay!” 

“You don’t even know what I’m thinking!” Jay snapped. He had to do something. He had to get him out of there and away from that woman.  Why couldn’t anyone else see that? Every time Carlos returned from an extended period at Hell Hall, his anxiety and jumpiness were a hundred times worse than when he’d left. Even the painful progress they’d made with some of his more neurotic tendencies - like dishwashing orders - regressed. Cruella had more than simply a physical effect on her son; she hurt him mentally, too. And Jay couldn’t just sit around and agree to watch him suffer at the hand of his own flesh and blood. “Look, I know that it’s not easy. I know he’s probably terrified. And maybe he’s got some guilt, too, about leaving her to wither and rot on her own since she’s not all… there. I’ve dealt with those feelings personally, trust me. My father is a - a bad man, and he’s sitting behind bars in cell, and I still _deal with those feelings._ We can work through it. After he’s away from that bitch. Now come on.” 

Evie stared at him, nodding. “I agree with Jay. I should never have waited this long to try and get him out.” 

“Okay,” Mal still hadn’t uncrossed her arms, but she also looked more convinced than before. “I guess we wouldn’t be doing our job if we just kinda stepped back. Rash or not. I’m in.”

Jay grabbed the keys, too focused to turn back now. Carlos did not belong at Hell Hall or with Cruella for one more second. “Let’s go then.” 

“Jay, wait.” The purple-haired girl caught his arm and held it tightly. “He might be really angry. He might not… forgive you for stepping in. You know that, right?” 

“Listen to me.” He met her gaze head on, speaking each word carefully. “I don’t care if he hates me for the rest of his life. I don’t care if he breaks up with me. I’m getting him out of that house.” 

* * *

 

**~C~**

 

Carlos was crying. 

From anger. 

And he didn’t really count it as crying necessarily - they weren’t sad, romantic tears sliding down his cheeks - but his face was hot and his vision was blurry as he walked home. One block. Two blocks. Each step brought him closer to his least favorite place on Earth and farther away from the people who wanted to get him out. 

_ They don’t understand. They don’t live with her. They don’t know what she’s capable of. She said she’d hunt me down. She would find me. She would find them, too. She’d hurt us all. They don’t understand. She’s my mother.  _

The same chorus of thoughts played over and over in his head like a broken record. He was angry at Jay. That much he knew, at least. But exactly why, he wasn’t entirely sure. 

“ _ Why won’t he fucking listen to me?” _ Carlos whispered angrily, disgusted at the break in his voice. 

Hell Hall looked even gloomier in the winter, with its shadowy silhouette standing out ominously against the paperwhite sky. The heavy gate creaked as it opened, and Carlos trudged miserably up the driveway. Would Jay even want him to come back to the apartment tomorrow? He’d seen the way the older boy had recoiled at his harsh words; maybe this time he’d finally placed the final straw. He knew this arrangement was tough; they were always shuttling back and forth, never settled. Maybe it was in his best interest to just stay here for awhile.

“Darling, is that you?” came the throaty shout as soon as Carlos stepped inside, gripping his bag tightly. He always hated this part. His mother usually calmed down after the initial punishment for staying out so long, though; better to just get it over with. 

“Yeah, Mom.” He swallowed hard. “It’s me. I lost track of time.” Excuses never really did much good. He didn’t know why he bothered with them.  

Carlos heard his mother before he saw her, listening to the rustling sweep of her furs as they dragged across the dusty floor. The floor he was supposed to have mopped and scrubbed by now. “Where have you been?” 

It didn’t matter where he’d been; it never did. She reacted the same every time. “Out, Mom. Just out.” 

Some days, his mother seemed almost lucid. Her eyes would clear slightly, and she’d even talk to him, let him model for some of her designs she swore she’d act upon someday. Those days were good days. She didn’t hurt him on purpose then, only accidentally if a pin stabbed his rib or his wrist. Unfortunately, today was not one of those days. 

His mother eyed him unsteadily, tottering on her feet just a little. He suspected gin, but didn’t say a word. Better to just stay still and quiet while she decided what she wanted to do. 

“You left me.” Curls of smoke escaped the end of her cigarette in its long, sleek holder. Sometimes he forgot it was a holder at all - often, it just seemed like an extension of her hand. 

“I - I know, Mom, I really meant to be back sooner.” Carlos fidgeted with his fingers nervously, wishing she’d just get on with the punishment already. 

“ _ Baby,”  _ his mother sighed heavily. “You know I absolutely  _ hate  _ punishing you. It’s just dreadful, darling; you’re not worth the energy.” 

For one shaking moment, Carlos wondered whether his mother might not punish him at all. Perhaps she was more lucid today than he’d thought. Half a second later, though, his back hit the wall as she grasped his chin and held it tight. 

“ _ Darling.”  _ Cruella’s voice was caught somewhere between a growl and a wail. “Why must you make our lives so difficult? I don’t ask very much, do I? Just a few little tasks to keep our house in order,  _ our lives in order.  _ And you can’t even manage to stick around long enough to make your own mother a decent breakfast?” 

Carlos’ head felt a little fuzzy, and after a moment, he realized her hands had slid closer to his throat. His breaths came in short gasps now as he tried to pry her fingers away. “Mom - I can’t -  _ Mom!” _

“You,” his mother hissed; her hot breath reeked of leftover smoke and alcohol, “are absolutely one hundred percent deserving of everything that’s coming to you. Mark my words, pet, life isn’t gonna treat you as kindly as I do. The number of second chances I've given you is remarkable. I’m a patient woman, darling, but you’ve pushed me too far time and time again!” 

Gasping, Carlos tried see clearly. His lungs burned. He needed to breathe _ ; why wouldn’t she let him breathe?  _ He clawed at the fingers locked tight around his throat, desperately trying to unhook even one. Vaguely, he was aware of a crack, but the only thing he cared about was the pressure easing up. His hands hit the floor as he fell, panting, gasping, wheezing. 

Cruella was shrieking above him, and when he found the strength to look up blearily, he saw her holding her finger in pain. 

_ I broke her finger,  _ he thought, his thoughts slow and labored.  _ I broke it. _

“You absolutely wretched child!” Cruella shouted, her voice louder than the rush of blood in his ears. He saw her kick him before he felt the pain. His shoulder screamed in protest, blindingly hot where her foot had made contact. Carlos could’ve sworn he’d heard a pop before the pain flared up. He rested his forehead on the cool ground and prayed his mother had finally had her fill. She kept shouting his name over and over and  _ over.  _

It took several more agonizing moments for Carlos’ brain to realize that it wasn’t his mother shouting his name at all. Other voices, familiar voices, just beyond the reach of his consciousness, were calling out to him. Dimly, he was aware of the door bursting open and several people tumbling inside. He heard his mother’s faraway shouts, someone else’s low grunts, and what sounded like several girls repeating something that he couldn't quite understand. 

_ I’m gonna black out,  _ he observed, somewhat calmy. And then Hell Hall, the pain, and the shouting disappeared.

* * *

 

**~E~**

 

Carlos took awhile to come to. Evie knelt beside him, checking for a pulse, and only felt comforted when a gentle pulsing beat against her fingertips. Her heart lurched at the sight of the angry red marks around his neck, already bruising and swollen. 

“He’s alive!” she called over her shoulder, glancing back Mal, who was helping Jay restrain a very stunned looking Cruella de Vil. Jay had his forearm pressed against the woman’s neck, while Mal kept a tight hold on her wrists. 

“What -” Cruella spluttered. “Did you really think I’d murder my own son? How dare you - in my own home -” 

“I’d shut up if I were you,” Jay positively growled. “Don’t move. Don’t talk.” 

Cruella ignored him. “Carlos! Carlos, tell these -” she cast a disdainful look at Mal and Jay, “ - manhandlers that I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“He can’t,” Jay spat, pressing her further against the wall. Evie had never heard him sound so angry. “You nearly killed him!” 

Evie turned her attention back to the boy lying on the floor beside her. His body twitched every so slightly - he was breathing, at least - but his arm lay at a strange angle. “Guys,” she said, doing her best to examine it without causing any more damage. “Something’s wrong with his arm.”

Behind her, Evie heard Mal grit her teeth in annoyance. “Fuck, I can’t come over there - I’m holding this bitch.” 

“I got it,” Jay assured her darkly. “Trust me, she’s not getting anywhere near him ever again.” 

There was a shuffling behind Evie as Mal let Jay take full control of Cruella’s containment before she came over to kneel beside Carlos. 

“Dislocated shoulder,” the purple-haired girl announced, studying his arm carefully. “See? It’s out of the socket right there. I can pop it back once he wakes up.” 

Evie didn’t know how to get him out of Hell Hall. Everything she’d ever read about injured people said moving around could cause even more damage, but that wasn’t an option for them. “How are we gonna get him out of here?” 

“He’s gonna wake up,” Mal told her, her voice steady, despite the severity of the situation. “And we’re gonna help him out.” 

“He’s not awake yet?” There was worry, far far beneath the anger in Jay’s voice. Turning around, Evie saw him glaring at Cruella with such ferocity the woman looked a tiny bit frightened for half a second. “Every second that he stays down,” Jay told her in a dangerously low voice, “is one more second you’ll burn in hell  _ after  _ the eternal sentence you’ve already earned.” 

Carlos stirred some, groaning softly. Evie sat up straighter, looking at him hopefully. “Carlitos? Honey? Can you hear us?” 

“You...” he mumbled softly. “You can’t… you can’t be here. You have to leave.” 

“Oh, yeah, right.” Mal shook her head. “Like we’re gonna take orders from the kid who just passed out.” 

“Mal!” Evie shot her girlfriend a look, her hands still hovering over Carlos anxiously. 

“What?” Mal folded her arms and stared right back. “Jay was right. We never should’ve let him come back.”

“No.” Carlos’ voice sounded hoarse, and Evie winced just listening to him wheeze. “You have - to leave.” 

Mal simply ignored him, looking back at the Cruella and Jay. She was looking at Carlos pleadingly, and for the first time, Evie thought she might understand why the boy was so conflicted about leaving her. 

“Carlos, baby,” Cruella crooned. “You know I’m sorry, don't you? I never meant to hurt you. You just worried me so much.” 

Jay didn't look swayed in the slightest. If anything, the little speech made him press his arm further against her neck. “Don’t talk to him.”

Carlos tried to push himself up, but a low groan escaped from his lips after a few futile efforts. 

“Shhh, hey.” Evie placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Don’t move just yet. Your shoulder looks bad. Mal says it's dislocated.” 

Carlos, still a little dazed, seemed just now to notice that his shoulder wasn't in the right spot. He titled his neck, trying to see it more clearly. “Oh.” 

“I can pop it back,” Mal repeated, her voice level and calm. She looked right at Carlos, keeping eye contact. “I’ve done it to Jay before. He once fell off his bike - flew right over the handlebars - after something got caught in his spokes.” 

Still lying on the ground, Carlos stared up at her, hanging onto every word. For a moment, it seemed to be the only thing anchoring him to the present moment. His breathing still rattled, but the breaths seemed to come steadier now - not quite so erratic as before. After another few beats, he managed to sit up, swaying slightly. 

Evie winced as Mal moved a little closer, still speaking to Carlos in a low, quiet voice as she inspected his arm. A moment later,  Evie shut her eyes - not sure she could handle watching the whole process in the event her girlfriend somehow messed up. Beyond her dark vision, there was another terrifying pop and another wheezing groan from Carlos. 

“What’s happening?” Evie asked, her eyes still screwed tightly closed. “Is he okay? Mal?” 

“All done.” 

Someone’s hands - Mal’s, she realized -  touched her own gently and pulled them away from her face. Evie blinked and saw that Carlos was sitting up, holding his shoulder, which (thankfully) looked normally aligned again. His cheeks were still white and bloodless, and for half a second, Evie wondered whether he might faint again. 

“Carlos?” Evie couldn’t quite read his face. “Do you - do you need to lie back down?” 

The boy shook his head no, but Mal clearly didn’t believe him and eased him back into his position on the ground.  

“What should we do about  _ her?”  _ Jay jerked his head toward Cruella, who had stopped struggling. 

“Let me go,” she laughed. “I’ve done nothing wrong -”

“ _ Fuck off.”  _ Jay made eye contact with Evie, who shrugged. They could call the cops. It would be messy and complicated, but at least she wouldn’t be able to hurt Carlos anymore. “We can’t just leave her here. What if she follows us?” 

“Please,” Cruella laughed. “I have better things to do with my time than chase around a bunch of wannabe vigilantes. I am a fashion designer, remember?” 

Suddenly, Carlos sat back up and struggled to his feet, nearly toppling over. He rose onto one knee and pitched forward, reaching his hands out to catch himself. Evie made a move to catch him, but he shoved her hands away. “You guys shouldn't have come.” 

Jay turned to stare at him, taken aback. “She could've killed you.” 

“I told you that you didn't need to rescue me!” Carlos struggled to his feet, finally reaching a standing position. “I am not a victim, Jay! I don't need saving!” 

“This wasn't saving,” Jay argued, still holding Cruella tightly. “This was just friends helping out friends! Carlos, I would be a bad person if I let you stay here! This isn’t about saving you or making you feel weak! It’s just about making sure my family is safe! You would’ve done the same for me. Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t!” 

“Jay -” Urgency had creeped into Carlos’ voice. At first, Evie thought he was just angry at Jay’s defiance, but then she caught sight of Cruella’s hand sliding from Jay’s distracted grip and realized exactly what she was trying to do. 

But Jay had worked himself up too much to notice; he was no longer paying attention to the woman he had against the wall. “No, Carlos, listen to me! I get guilt! I get it! I do! But this is not about you being a victim or being unable to help yourself! Sometimes you need other people to help out! That’s -” 

“JAY!” 

Cruella had freed her wrists, and now, she brought her bony elbow up to smack Jay in the nose. His hands flew to his face with a grunt, and the woman took the opportunity to slide a wicked looking pocket knife from beneath her layers of fur and point it straight at Jay. 

A strike of fear rippled through Evie’s body _. “Who the hell just has a pocket knife in their coat like that?”  _ she whispered to Mal, her heart starting to pound again. 

“Carlos’ mother, apparently,” Mal answered, calm as ever, despite the increased stakes. “Jay, stay still. Just… move slowly.” 

“If he so much as  _ breathes  _ the wrong way,” Cruella smiled wider, bringing the blade to hover near Jay’s neck. “I will skin him faster than you can stop me.” 

“Mom!” Carlos held out his good arm, still too far away to grab her without Jay sustaining some kind of damage. “Let him go! He isn’t apart of this.”

“Oh, he is now,” Cruella grinned. “Your  _ brave and tough  _ Prince Charming, huh? Coming to rescue you?” 

Evie saw the way Carlos squinted every so slightly, analyzing the situation. It was the same face he made when trying to find a hole in a particularly difficult code or a solution for a a challenging set of equations. She knew what Jay knew, what Mal knew, and what it seemed all of them except Carlos himself knew: he had never been a weak link and never, ever would be. There was a subtle, strong power behind him - even shaking, bloodless, and broken. 

The freckled boy took a step closer to his mother, whose eyes were wide and wild. Evie had always known Cruella was a little crazy, but the woman standing in front of her - threatening Jay with her knife - was nothing short of insane. Carlos edged closer, his hands out. 

“Darling, stop moving,” Cruella ordered. “Stop walking! I will slice him up, you know I will!” 

Carlos took another tiny step towards her. “Look at me. Mom, look at me.” There was a low tremor to his voice, but it didn’t break. 

Cruella didn’t drop the knife, but she did turn her attention to her son, staring at him. “What, Pet? What could you possibly want?” 

“Why are you doing this?” Carlos stood nearly within arms reach, holding his shoulder, staring into his mother’s face. Evie had never seen him look braver. “I do everything for you, Mom. I do everything! I take care of you, and this house and -  _ fuck  _ I still love you… despite everything, despite  _ all this, dammit,  _ so why - why do you do this?”

The entire foyer had fallen so quiet Evie could hear Mal’s breathing beside her. All eyes were on Carlos as he stared at his mother. 

“I know…” The freckled boy paused, his chest rising and falling in the stillness. “I know you don’t love me. I know that. But… I wish you didn’t fucking pretend you did.” 

By that point, Cruella’s arm had gone limp, and Jay simply slid out and moved beyond her reach. She was staring at Carlos, maybe half in understanding, maybe just really fucking crazy. He held the eye contact for a few more moments before turning and walking towards the door. 

“Don’t follow me, Mom,” he said evenly, without even a glance over his shoulder. “I’m not coming back. Don’t try and find me.” 

Jay looked at Evie quizzically, but she only shrugged and slid her hand into Mal’s, squeezing it tightly. She didn’t know if Carlos wanted to come back to the apartment - there was a strong possibility that he was still pissed off - but she figured they owed it to him ask. Besides, he still looked like he might fall over at any second; they should have  _ someone  _ nearby spotting him.  

“He did good,” Mal said quietly as the three of them stepped out the front door and back into the late afternoon cold. 

Evie couldn’t have agreed more. As she watched Carlos stumble towards the car, holding his injured shoulder, she felt her heart swell with pride. She knew exactly what if felt like to face a parent, to walk out of their lives. 

“Should I talk to him?” Jay looked a little anguished. His eyes followed Carlos’ every move. 

“Give him some time,” she sighed, patting his arm. “Just… let him have space. He needs to figure out how he’s feeling.” 

“Hey, freckles,” Mal called as they got closer, her eyes scanning his face and stance for any signal of collapse. “You coming back with us?” 

He turned, his eyes flicking across each other their faces. His gaze caught ever so slightly on Jay’s face, resting there. “Yeah. I’m coming.” And then his eyelids fluttered and he crumpled into Mal’s arms, slipping back into unconsciousness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one chapter to go :) thank you so much to all of you that have kept with this story and messaged me and looked forward to each installment! you guys are the best!


	11. Birthdays and Bubbly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi all! wow, so here it is: the final chapter. i am so grateful to all of you who stayed for the ride. your comments have been so lovely and encouraging to read! this entire story has been so fun to write, and i'm really glad you guys love it as much as i do. 
> 
> enjoy :)

**~M~**

 

“Remind me again why we’re out shopping for alcohol at eleven o’clock at night?” Mal grumbled, parking the car in front of the shitty liquor store. 

“Because,” Evie surveyed the half-lit sign above the place, buzzing with cheap neon lights. “It gives Carlos some privacy to finally talk to Jay about what went down between them, and it gives _us_ a chance to get champagne for his birthday tomorrow. Besides, can’t a girl just want to buy liquor illegally with her girlfriend?” 

“Are you sure he’s gonna even feel like celebrating?” Mal made a face, making no move to get out of the car. “I’ve been telling Jay to lay off him all day.” 

Following the events at Hell Hall, Carlos had been… distant. He still smiled, still ate with them, and participated in family meals. Other than the sling (which Evie had insisted he wear) and the bruises around his neck, he looked pretty much the same as he always had on the outside. But Mal knew the difference. If any of them even attempted to bring up what had happened, he shut down or walked away. When they’d gotten home, he’d asked to sleep with Evie instead of Jay, so Mal had been bunking with the taller boy like old times. There was just something… off about Carlos de Vil. 

Not that anyone could blame him. 

Evie sighed, bringing Mal back to the present. “Maybe some alone time with Jay will entice him to talk.” 

“Doubtful.” Mal finally opened the car door and stepped out onto the uneven pavement. “He’s not ready yet, Eves. We can’t force him to be.” 

“Well,” Evie bit lip, following, “at the very least, it’s New Year’s Eve. Everyone likes champagne on New Year’s Eve.” 

Despite all the craziness and tension and weird silences going on with the boys, she herself had never been happier. It felt… almost wrong to be so smitten. Lately, she’d found herself shutting the butterflies down that flapped wildly when Evie laughed or smiled or breathed in her direction - simply because the agonized look on Jay’s face as he stared at Carlos’ stony expression felt like her fault somehow. She should’ve figured out a solution sooner. She should’ve saved him. She should’ve _done something._

“Hey,” Evie reached out and touched her arm. “It’s not your fault.” 

Mal smiled up at her, shaking her head. “How did I get so lucky?” 

“Fate is weird, I guess.” Evie blushed pink under the glow of the streetlight. “You’re gonna kiss me at midnight, right?” 

Temporarily distracted by Evie’s advances, Mal allowed herself to laugh, leaning closer. “Maybe I don't wanna wait until midnight.”

Six months ago, she would’ve never guessed someday she’d be making out with Evie Grimhilde in the parking lot of a liquor store. It felt surreal, dangerous, _good._ She was on top of the world as they kissed, her hands weaving through her girlfriend’s soft, beautiful blue hair. 

 _I never knew I wanted this,_ a voice mused somewhere in her subconscious. _But now that I have it, I never wanna give it up._

“Damn you, Mal Moors,” Evie laughed breathlessly at last, pulling back a bit. “You’re impossible to resist.” 

“You certainly know how to make a girl weak,” Mal grinned back, taking her girlfriend’s hand and walking towards the store. “Not that it works on me. I’m not weak, see - _hey!”_

Evie grinned, her fist posed for another punch. “Admit it! You’re soft for me!” 

“No!” 

The bell rang as they stepped through the doors, the sound nearly drowned out by their laughter. The assortment of people slowly browsing the aisles looked up, watching them. Mal stared back, a snarl replacing her laughter until the prying eyes had returned to the liquor.

“You scared them,” Evie whispered with a proud little smile. 

“They needed to mind their own business.” Mal walked with her head held high to the champagne, scanning the labels (particularly the prices). She figured laughter - truly light, blissful laughter - was rarely heard this late in shitty alcohol stores still open on New Year’s Eve. It didn't belong underneath the harsh, fluorescent lights or next to the cheap spirits.

“Ooh, this stuff is pretty good.” Evie leaned forward and plucked one of the more expensive bottles off the shelf. “This was the first champagne I ever tried.” 

“Did your mom give it to you?” 

“Mom?” Evie laughed. “Hell no, this stuff was _way_ below her price range. I had it at my old friend’s house on my sixteenth birthday. Audrey was… the first girl I ever had a real crush on, actually.” 

Mal studied her, raising an eyebrow. “You liked her?” 

“Oh, stop it.” Evie pushed her arm gently. “Don’t be jealous, I love you and only you. I was just a kid. But… the champagne was so bubbly, and she was so cute. And I was just drunk enough realize that I might like her. I almost kissed her too, but I got too scared and went to the bathroom with some shitty excuse instead.” 

Mal tried to focus on the remainder of Evie’s story, but her mind was stuck on one phrase, her stomach fluttering slightly. “E…?” 

Evie looked up, seeming to notice Mal’s stunned expression. “What? What’s wrong? Mal, please don't be jealous. Last I heard, she’s with someone -” 

“You said -” Mal swallowed hard. Since when did that become difficult? “You said you love me.” 

Evie’s lips - their color still smudged from the earlier kissing - parted ever so slightly as she realized what she’d said, too. She seemed to freeze, staring at Mal for a few startled moments. “So I did,” she gasped softly at last. “I - I don't -” 

“Did you mean it?” Mal’s stomach clenched tightly with anticipation. She didn't know what she wanted Evie’s answer to be. If she said no, they could pretend that they weren't attached, that they didn't need each other. They could protect themselves when loved failed. On the other hand -

“Yes,” Evie breathed, her eyes filling with nothing other than sheer terror. “Yes, Mal. I think I did.” 

 _That’s what I wanted to hear,_ Mal realized as the tension eased slowly. She’d wanted Evie to mean it. She’d wanted Evie to love her. _Evie loves me._

“E…” Mal pressed her forehead against hers. “God, Evie, I love you, too.” 

Their kiss was softer this time around, quieter, almost emotional. Mal closed her eyes, knowing now that Evie without a doubt made her the softest, weakest human alive. 

_And I love her for it._

“I guess we have to get this champagne now,” Evie laughed softly, dashing unshed tears from her eyes. “I kinda owe a lot to it apparently.” 

“Princess?” Mal grabbed her arm gently, wishing she could spend forever staring at her. “Just for the record… even if I am glad you didn't kiss her… Audrey missed out on a fantastic girl.” 

Her girlfriend blushed, chewing her lip. “You think so?” 

“Bitch,” Mal laughed. “I _know_ so _.”_

* * *

 

**~J~**

 

Mal had specifically told Jay not to bring up _The Conversation_ with Carlos again until he was ready. 

But now, Jay rationalized, Mal wasn't here to stop him. And the apartment was unbearably quiet. Carlos sat in the corner, working on something with his computer, so the only sound in the room came from his fingers gently hitting the keys. Jay wondered if the freckled boy would even noticed if he disappeared. 

_I wish he’d just fucking talk to me._

It’s all Jay had thought about since they'd come home from Hell Hall earlier that week, and Carlos had announced he was sleeping with Evie instead of him. Jay didn’t regret getting him out; every single time Carlos wheezed or gasped or gingerly probed the bruises around his neck, Jay _knew_ he’d done the right thing. Carlos could stay mad at him; it wouldn’t change the fact that he was safe now - much safer than he’d been had Jay turned a blind eye.  Still, the kid’s birthday was in an hour, and Jay figured he should try and say something to fix the icy coldness between them.

Sighing heavily, Jay stared up at the ceiling and then back down at the recipes Mal had laid out for the week. He was supposed to be making a grocery list, but at the moment, he’d hardly even written one thing down. 

 _I’m gonna talk to him,_ Jay decided, standing up. The chair made a loud screech, and Jay winced. Carlos looked up, one eyebrow raised, and Jay quickly sat back down, kicking himself. 

 _Shit, shit, shit,_ he groaned silently. _I just wanna make him understand. Let him know that I just wanted him to be safe._

Carlos had saved him from Cruella’s knife, but apparently that hadn't been a show of forgiveness - simply a matter of survival. And now, Carlos was just flat-out refusing to talk about it. He’d completely shut Jay out, and Jay had no idea how to fix things between them. Maybe there was no fixing things between them.

 _No,_ Jay decided, standing up again (quietly this time). _I’m not gonna let this happen. Not when we’re so close._

He walked over to the corner, sliding down to sit next to Carlos - still a fair distance away just in case. “Hey.”

Carlos didn’t look up, but he did tense some. “Hi.” His voice still rattled in his chest - hoarse and scratchy. 

Jay cleared his throat, messing with the leather band around his wrist. “Uh - Mal told me not to bring … _that…_ up again.” 

“You should probably listen to her.” Carlos’ tone was clipped, measured, like any second he might get up and walk away like he’d been prone to doing lately. 

“Since when have I ever done that?” Jay leaned back against the wall, glancing over at Carlos carefully. 

Carlos didn’t answer, which wasn’t a good sign. He continued typing, ignoring Jay again. It was probably pointless to keep trying to breach the subject, especially when the freckled boy had turned back into a brick wall with a talent for not hearing a word that came out of Jay’s mouth. But as stubborn as Carlos could be, Jay could match him stride for stride. He was bad at quitting and he knew it - that’s what had gotten them into this situation in the first place. 

“‘Los, you were really fucking brave,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I know you haven’t wanted to talk about it, and you’re probably gonna walk away now, but I just… wanted you to know.”

Carlos stayed tense, but at least he didn’t move away. He didn’t say anything either, but Jay could tell he was listening now. He would take it. 

“You’re not weak, Carlos.” Jay figured he’d talk until Carlos stopped paying attention or the girls came home - whichever came first. “You’re not. Wanting to believe the best in someone isn’t weak - if it were, we’d both be guilty. I didn’t leave my dad until _Mal practically forced me._ When she found out what was… happening… I was fifteen. She noticed me limping. And… she guessed it. She’d met my father, and she’s pretty damn observant. I told her that I didn’t want to leave. That he was my father. That… that I loved him.” Jay’s face felt hot as he spoke. “But Carlos, she told me the same thing I told you. That it didn't matter. That he hurt me. That we had to leave.” 

He felt Carlos’ eyes on him, and figured he’d finally looked over. “Did you?”

“Not until I heard Mal’s mother yelling at her for liking girls.” Jay winced. It sounded worse out loud than he’d anticipated. “That was what changed my mind. Not anything my father did. Not anything that happened to me.”

Jay remembered the night he’d finally caved, the night he’d finally told Mal they would run. He’d broken her out of her room, snapped the lock off the frame, and they’d just… gone.  

“Did you regret it?” 

Clenching his jaw, Jay thought it over. It had all seemed like an adventure, at first. Mal had dyed her hair, he’d sworn off cutting his, and they’d felt like daring explorers on a dangerous mission. “When it finally sunk in… that we were really not going back… no, I didn’t. I realized Mal loved me more than my dad ever did.”

“Mom always makes me feel _so guilty,”_ Carlos said quietly. “I remember - when Evie’s mother disowned her - I was so jealous. I wanted my mother to just… stop pretending to care about me. If she didn’t pretend to care, then I could leave without feeling guilty at all! She just… always apologizes and - and sometimes she’s okay - and - I dunno, Jay. I hate her.” 

“You don’t.” Jay shook his head. “Maybe superficially, but deep down, there’s other stuff there, too. I don’t completely hate my dad. And Mal doesn’t totally hate her mom. It’s… impossible. On some level… in some way… we still wished they were better people. That they… cared about us.” 

Carlos sighed, no longer typing without purpose, his fingers ghosting carefully over various keys. “Sorry I’ve been so distant. I just… needed time to think.”

“You can take all the time you want.” Jay shrugged. “You don’t like charity. I’ve known that about you for a long time. But me trying to get out out of that house? That wasn’t charity. It was just me trying to stop you from making the same mistake I did.” 

And the freckled boy nodded. They didn’t say anything else for a long time, but Jay didn’t mind. The silence was better now. Glancing over at the clock, Jay realized it was only ten minutes until midnight. 

“You’re almost eighteen,” he said, nudging him gently. “Got any crimes you wanna commit before you’re a legal adult?” 

And _finally_ , Carlos gave him a weak smile. “I think I’ve committed my fill of crimes for awhile, but thanks.” 

Jay’s heart soared in spite of himself; one little smile, and he felt like he could jump off a building and fly. The sound of the lock turning snapped him out of it, and both boys glanced up instantly. Mal and Evie stepped inside, carrying a plastic bag between them. 

“Okay,” Mal called. “If you guys haven’t worked shit out by now, we can’t help you. We stalled as long as we could.” She set the bag on the table, pulling out two bottles of champagne. “We got the drinks, and we have ten minutes until New Year’s, so everyone get ready.” 

“And Carlos’ eighteenth,” Jay reminded her. “We’re celebrating that, too.”

The purple-haired girl raised an eyebrow, throwing a glance at Carlos. “Freckles? You good with that?” 

Carlos stood, coming over with a small nod. “Yeah. I think so.” 

Evie went to the cabinets, getting down plastic champagne flutes and beginning to pour the sparkling drinks. “We’re classy,” she laughed, shaking her head.

“Nine minutes,” Mal called unhelpfully. “We better not miss this. I’ve been waiting to kiss Evie all day.” 

“Not buying that.” Carlos raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the red lipstick smeared on both of their faces. “The evidence is all over your faces.” 

Evie smiled widely, despite being called out. Jay figured she was just happy that Carlos was joking with them again. 

Jay watched Carlos for a few seconds, lowering his voice. “So - uh - about that midnight kiss… are we…?”

But the other boy just shrugged infuriatingly, the evil gleam in his eye returning for just a second. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” 

“Eight minutes.” Mal passed out the glasses, coming between them. She still hadn’t wiped Evie’s lipstick off her face and showed no signs of caring. “Hey. Angst Twins. You guys drinking tonight?” 

“That fake ID is still working for you, huh?” Carlos took the glass, taking a sip. 

“No one at that store gives a shit.” Mal swatted his hand gently. “And no drinking before midnight which is in - seven minutes and thirty four seconds.” 

The four of them gathered on the floor of the living room, sitting cross-legged on the rug. It felt oddly ceremonial for them - almost too sentimental - but Jay wasn’t complaining. He supposed they had a few solid things to celebrate. They watched the clock as the time slowly ticked away. As the final minute approached, Jay watched Carlos’ expression. He was gonna kiss him, right? 

“Ten seconds!” Mal positioned herself next to Evie, a grin on her face. “Hi, Princess. Miss me? Nine seconds… eight…  seven… six… five…” 

Carlos still hadn’t moved. He continued to sip his champagne, one eyebrow slightly arched. The little shit really wasn’t going to kiss him. Did that mean their conversation had been in vain? Was Carlos really not going to forgive him? 

“... three…” Mal counted, already inches away from her girlfriend and looking much too eager, “... two…” 

“One.” Carlos finally turned and leaned in, kissing Jay gently. He tasted like the drink that had just disappeared past his lips. 

 _Fuck,_ Jay thought, _this stupid kid that I’m crazy about._

* * *

 

**~C~**

 

Carlos rather enjoyed being petty sometimes. He especially enjoyed the incredulous, almost desperate, look on Jay’s face as Mal counted down. 

 _Of course I was gonna kiss you,_ Carlos thought as he closed his eyes and finally pressed his lips to his stupid idiot boyfriend’s. _Of fucking course, you beautiful, stupid boy._

“Happy birthday,” Jay mumbled softly as they pulled away, looking slightly dazed. His expression always looked like that when they kissed; it made Carlos feel sort of powerful. 

Carlos looked up at him through his eyelashes, smiling some. However upset he’d been with Jay, right here, in this moment, he didn't feel any of it. Jay’s stupid vulnerability and his personal apology made it impossible for him to stay upset. That fucker. 

“Carlos!” Evie had finally stopped eating Mal’s face apparently because now she was on her feet. “We have presents for you. Just - hang on, let me find mine.” 

“Presents?” Carlos blinked. He'd only told them about his birthday a few days ago, and after he’d been such a bitch this week, they'd still pulled together gifts for him? 

“Yes,” Evie flashed him a smile. “It’s not everyday you turn eighteen.” She pulled out a slim, black binder that Carlos recognized as one of her design sketchbooks. Smiling shyly, she handed him a sturdy piece of her good cardstock paper. Sketched neatly on the front - in full color - was an outfit that could’ve been straight out of any of the most cutting edge fashion catalogues. Between the leather - and his favorite black and white color scheme - she’d perfectly taylored every theoretical stitch _just to him._

“Evie…” He didn’t even know what to say. No one had ever created something this special with him in mind. 

“I didn’t have enough time to actual _make_ the design,” she told him quickly. “But I’m one hundred percent going to start it soon, I swear. This is just like… a sneak peak.” 

“It’s -” Carlos took a deep breath. “It’s incredible, Evie, really. I don't even know what to say.” 

“Eves,” Jay groaned. “He’s gonna look sexy as hell in that. How could you let him do that to me - he likes teasing as it is?” 

“She knew what she was doing,” Mal laughed. “I’m a fan of those shorts. They look hot, Freckles.” 

Evie positively beamed. “Oh, you guys flatter me. It really wasn’t that difficult of a design. It’s so - Carlos.” 

Next came Mal’s gift, which was oddly thoughtful. She, too, pulled out her sketchbook and handed him a familiar piece of paper. Instead of a design, though, Carlos realized she’d given him the sketch she’d been working on for weeks. 

“Mal…” He stared at it, gaping. It was a pencil sketch - messy and _perfect -_ of the four of them. They were touching, all of them, in some way or another - a hand, a foot, an arm, all connected. Every single face had a smile, and Carlos could practically hear the laughter coming from each of their penciled lips. Evie’s lips were parted joyfully, Jay’s eyes were crinkled in that wonderful way of his, and even Mal looked so _happy._ Staring at it, Carlos’ chest got tight. 

“Mal…” 

“Isn't it lovely?” Evie said in a hushed voice, admiring it over his shoulder. “And I didn't even have to convince her to give it to you. She thought of it all on her own. Isn’t that right, babe?” 

“Sometimes I pull through, okay?” Mal shot back with a soft laugh. Her fingers drummed on her leg, and Carlos realized just how nervous she was about giving it to him. 

“Mal?” He smiled at her earnestly. “I love it. It’s us. All of us. Happy.” This picture had everything he ever needed: his little family and their happiness. 

“‘Los?” Jay cleared his throat. “I have something for you, too.” 

Turning around, Carlos’ stomach dropped out. Jay was holding a small, velvet box. And he looked nervous, too, licking his lips. 

“Jay - uh - is this like -” 

“Christ,” his boyfriend laughed. “No, I’m not fucking proposing. Just take the box, Pup.” 

So Carlos did, opening it slowly and peering inside. Sitting inside, sparkling like the champagne he’d been drinking, was a ring on a chain. 

“It’s not an engagement ring,” Jay assured him quickly, clearing his throat. “And the gems aren't real or anything, but I saw it in the store downtown, and I couldn't let it go. So I - bought it - for you.” 

Carlos’ jaw dropped for the third time that night. “You - bought it? For me?” 

Jay nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, and strung it up on one of my old chains. I figured - it would look nice around your neck. Edgy. And… kinda be a promise to you. That we’ll protect each other and all that shit. But if you don't -” 

Jay never got to finish what he was about to say because Carlos just couldn't wait another second to kiss him. He had no idea how else to thank him. He depended the kiss, pawing at his boyfriend’s shirt and most likely would've gone a little farther than that if Mal hadn't made a point of loudly clearing her throat. 

“ _Mal,”_ Jay half-groaned, half-laughed. “What the fuck?!” 

Carlos laughed, his cheeks flushed, and busied himself with taking the chain out and unclasping it. “Someone put this on me.”

Evie helped him, refastening it behind his neck and giving him a kiss on the cheek. _“Are you happy?”_ she whispered, with the look of someone who had sipped just a little bit too much champagne. Her eyes shone almost as brightly as his new ring. 

“Yeah.” He smiled down at the ring now nicely resting near his chest - _near his heart._ “I am.”

* * *

 

**~E~**

 

Evie wasn't exactly drunk, but she knew she’d had enough champagne to feel it. She liked the light, floaty feeling it gave her and the way it fizzled slightly on her tongue. 

 _“Mmmm,”_ she giggled, leaning on Mal. 

“You -” Mal said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “- are a major lightweight. It’s just champagne!”

“Nah _uh.”_ But she was giggling and this time, she couldn't stop. Across from them, she saw Carlos making eyes at Jay, which only made her laugh harder. “Those two were gonna _have sex.”_ She laughed harder. 

Startled, Jay and Carlos looked over, red coloring both of their faces. 

“What?” Carlos snorted. “What makes you think that?” 

“Cause _,”_ Evie sang, kicking her legs some. “You guys _are in loveee._ And that's what people in love do. It’s what I’m gonna do someday… to Mal.” She made kissy faces up at Mal, who looked amused… and maybe a little excited. Maybe if Evie were sober, she wouldn't have just said that out loud. But Evie wasn't sober. And she felt so happy, so comfortable, that at the moment, she wanted nothing more than to go at it with the most beautiful girl in the world. 

But Mal shook her head, gesturing around. “Down, girl,” she laughed. “That’s the alcohol talking. Definitely have to wait until there’s no champagne in the equation for me to let you agree to _that_.” 

Evie pouted for a moment, then sat up - suddenly getting a new idea. She gasped dramatically, leaning forward and nearly tumbling out of Mal’s lap. “We have to come up with our resolutions!” 

“We do those?” Mal wrinkled her nose. But at the sight of Evie’s pouty face, she immediately nodded. “I mean - yes, we do those.” 

“Okay, I’ll go first.” Evie sipped her newest glass of champagne, sloshing some of it down the side. She lowered her voice, feeling like she was about to tell a secret. “ _Shhhh…. don't tell… I wanna feel pretty without makeup.”_

Jay smiled at her, his face hazy through her buzzed-up vision. “You always look good without makeup, Eves, trust me.” 

She giggled again, blushing. “Shhh. Stop lying.” 

“Not a lie.” He winked at her.  

“You go.” She smiled indulgently at him, resting her chin on her hands. 

“Alright.” Jay thought for a moment, folding his arms. “I wanna… have Carlos tutor me a couple times a week.” He smiled at his boyfriend, who ducked his head. 

“You wanna be smart,” Evie laughed harder. “Like Carlos. Aw. So you can _impress him, right, loverboy?”_

“Sorry,” she heard Mal laughing above her. “I’ve never seen her drunk before.” 

“‘M not drunk!” Evie protested, turning to look up at her. “Aw, you're prettyyy.” 

Mal laughed again, shaking her head. “Princess, your cheeks are so flushed. Just for the record, though - you’re pretty, too.”

Across from them, Jay snorted loudly. “Damn, you’re softer than I thought, Dragon Breath.” A moment later, he grunted loudly in protest, and Evie figured Mal had probably thrown something at him. 

“Okay, okay!” Carlos held up his hands. “I’ll go next! This year, I want to start college at the local university and maybe start applying to bigger names that I can transfer to in the future.” 

From where Evie was sitting, she saw Jay raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend. “Um, ‘Los, we all know you’re gonna do that anyway. You’re a genius, remember?” 

Carlos blushed again. “Well… I can’t think of anything else.” 

Twisting his hair up into a bun, Jay thought for a second. “Okay, well, I have one we can do together. We can work on our guilt, alright? About our parents?” 

Evie held her breath. She might be a little tipsy, but she still had enough sense to know that Carlos would probably react badly to that resolution. But instead of freezing up or shutting down, he only gave Jay a tight smile. 

“That’s… a little harder,” Carlos said softly, reaching up to slide his new ring along the chain. “I guess that’s what a resolution is supposed to be, though, right? A challenge?” 

Jay nodded. “Yeah, ‘Los. We can do it. I know we can.” 

“Honestly,” Mal shook her head. “That’s something we could all probably work on. Wait, why the fuck did this get so sentimental all the sudden? Let’s go back to talking about sex. I like that better.” 

The boys snorted, and Evie divulged into another fit of giggles. 

“Someone get Mal another drink,” Jay joked. “She’s too sober for this conversation.” 

Evie looked around at all of them. Maybe it was just the champagne, but their faces were the most beautiful ones she’d ever seen. She had never been more grateful that Jay had crashed Mal’s car all those months ago. 

“Thanks for crashing that car,” she said, looking over at Jay with a fond smile. “We kinda owe a lot to you.” 

“Ha!” Jay set his cup down on the ground so hard the plastic nearly cracked. “Hear that, Mal? I’m the fucking hero here! I brought us together! You have _me_ to thank! So start thanking, motherfucker!” 

“Shut up!” Mal flipped Jay off with both hands, huffing. “Dammit, E! You’re feeding his ego! You’re supposed to be on my side!

“‘M _always_ on your side, M.” Evie smiled more, looking up at her girlfriend. For the first time in a really, really long time, she had nowhere else she’d rather be. She watched Mal’s green eyes light up and the way her face glowed in the dim light and marveled that she ever doubted her. 

 _We found each other,_ she thought peacefully, watching Jay put his arm around Carlos and pull him close. _We found each other. And protected each other. And made each other. And now… we have a family._

“Guys?” she smiled, making sure to study each other their faces. Mal with those green eyes she’d noticed from the beginning; Jay with his muscled arms and quick, flashing smile; and Carlos with his freckles and his wit and his silent strength. 

 _I love them,_ Evie realized, smiling to herself. _I love them._

“Yeah, E?” Mal touched her arm gently, sending shivers all up and down her spine. 

“I love you guys.” Evie meant it with her whole being. 

And when they smiled back, the whole room lit up. 

“We love you too, Princess,” Jay assured her, Carlos nodding his agreement. 

Mal leaned down to press a kiss to her lips, lazy and sweet and wonderful. “They might love you,” she said. “But I’m _in love_ with you.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she heard Jay groan. “This isn’t a competition! We all love her!” 

And Evie, grinning wider than she ever had before, warm and light from the alcohol, had never, ever felt more loved. 

 _So this is what it feels like,_ she thought. _This is what it feels like to be adored._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys! i hope you enjoyed this story! i love you all!


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